#and fully intended to spend at least one full day writing. I Did Not. but i did spend like 90 minutes tonight cranking out a whole bunch

[ioniansunsets]

I'm so curious how Christmas would go with each one of the heartsteel and what they would give us!

✖ Heartsteel Gifts + Christmas Date ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.5k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: This year there's a party at the Riot Music HQ and all the boys are invited to join with their partners heheheh its 8am did I spend the last 12h brainstorming and writing this? Yes. Not proofread. I am closing my eyes and enjoying my x'mas date and party wwwww ---- Shieda Kayn

The only time he wakes up bright and early. The second the sun rises he is up and waking You up as well.

Excited man child. Kayn would be the kind of guy that might dye his hair red and green instead just to enjoy the festivities. Paired with a full black Santa outfit that matches yours (he bought it for you).

Bringing you out to have a nice lunch with his dad before going on a shopping spree with you in town. Kayn’s Christmas plans for you both are non-stop activities from snowball fights to ice skating, before ending with a nice gathering at the main studio with the Heartsteel members, other Riot Music stars and some staff.

Kayn wouldn’t really have Christmas gifts planned for you, an impulsive lover he would just buy and give you whatever the moment he sees it. So when it came to Christmas itself, it was more on a gift that he spotted a little over a week ago that he thought would be perfect for you.

Wrapped surprisingly well in fancy paper and a cute bow he’d hand you a small box. It was matching rings with him. Not like fancy marriage or anything. Just fashion jewelry that had gems in your favourite color. Not to mention it might…have been something…he stole from his stylists last photoshoot… Let’s not make eye contact with them over by the snack table yeah?

Ezreal

Ez wakes up at a reasonable time around breakfast. But spends at least an hour just snuggling with you in his arms as he uses his phone to check up on social media. Humming Christmas tunes as he presses his cheek into you.

When he finally gets up, he drags you up along with him, getting ready by finding fashionable matching outfits for a date out in town. He was Ezreal after all. It was a day full of influencer brand deal Christmas parties that he was fully intending to milk for their freebies.

Branded bags, perfume, fancy lunch at a restaurant, caroling and then even more free facial products and clothes. Both your hands were full of PR goodie bags by the time you two had to leave for the Riot Music party.

Ezreal would have entirely forgotten about your present. Not that he forgot to buy it. But he forgot to bring it. Awkward laughing as he gives you shitty excuse after shitty excuse to try and slip away from you before the party. He finally manages to sprint/blink back home to pick up the fancy paper bag he had hidden under the bed for over a month.

Handing it to you with a smile as sweat drips down his brow. Ezreal sheepishly laughs as he watches you open it. A pair of sunglasses that not only match his but have both your names engraved on each arm. A unique and expensive gift that will no doubt remind you of him and tell others just who your boyfriend is.

Sett

Sett would be up early. Wanting to cook some of Ma’s signature family recipes. Making things to bring to Christmas dinner for the party with the Riot Music idols and staff later at night. He’d tries his best not to wake you though, so it is the warm smell of delicious food that pulls you out of bed after him shortly after.

He wouldn’t have planned a super eventful day, going to gym early before you woke, cooking things and packing them, getting dressed before going out with you. Hanging out at the studio with you in his arms as the two of you chat and catch up with friends. Its warm and homey the kind of feeling where old friends are just catching up with each other after a hectic year.

Helping to set up the party, Sett would pick you up to reach the top of the tree. Putting the star up. Decorating the walls and doors. Sneaking you off into the break room to snack on a homemade meal he made just for the two of you for lunch.

When it comes to gifts, Sett has this planned for months. Asking mom for help as he worked on it himself slowly in his free time between shows. Smiling proud as he hands it to you over lunch. He spent countless hours making a hand-bound scrapbook of all your dates for the year, receipts, memories, polaroids, ticket stubs, handwritten reviews on what he loved about each date as well as cute memos on your outfits too. Messy drawings and loving hearts drawn around you two. It was a sweet summary of the year to keep as memories for you both.

Aphelios

Staying up late the previous night, Aphelios would sleep in on Christmas morning, a soft mumble as he hugs you close in the cool weather. Pulling the sheets up high, making sure the two of you stayed warm in bed.

Only as hunger starts to catch up does he finally languidly get up from bed. The hustle and bustle outside from Sett cooking something paired with screams of kids in the streets finally forces him to wake. Pouting the whole time as he holds you tight

Disgruntled murmurs, all Aphelios wants to do on the holiday is to rest. Always up late working he just wanted to hold you in his arms as he lazes around until obligations catch up to him and that’s what he does. Offering to have a movie marathon with you. Raspy laughter as he wraps the both of you up in blankets. Inviting you to get comfy as he goes out to make the both of you hot chocolate.

Aphelios’ gift was something he spent a long time stressing over. It had to be perfect. It had to be something that you wouldn’t get for yourself. And so this is what he ended up with. A pair of headphones the exact same as his with the nifty little ability to share the same audio source he was listening to. Placing them gently on your head as he turns on the movie for the day.

When the two of you left for the party. It was his arm around your side his head resting gently against yours in the cab as Aphelios’ music gently plays in your ears. His fingers tapping on your side in beat as the two of you listen in together.

Yone

It was one of the few times that Yone actually gets to spend time at home with his brother, so when Christmas rolls around you were invited to come live with him at his old place in the suburbs. Chilling with him in the comfort of his old room as he shows you things around his place.

His Christmas plans included more mundane things, spending breakfast with you and Yasuo. Going out for a walk in the nearby park to see the Christmas decorations, bringing you out for lunch at places he used to frequent in his youth. As the sun begins to set the two of you set off for the party.

Showing up with drinks and gifts for everyone in Heartsteel. Yone ushers you in and settles his commitments before returning to your side shortly after. Holding up a small fancy gift bag, Yone awkwardly hands you the gift.

Pulling it out you see a wooden beaded bracelet made of a few different colored woods. Alternating into a beautiful pattern. As Yone helps put it around your wrist he brings up how he spent the time away from you hand carving each beat himself. Wanting to give you something to show how he is always thinking of you and how dedicated he was to his one and only lover.

K'Sante

K’Sante wakes up bright and early, excitedly waking you too. Telling you he has a day full of surprises planned and wants to make sure you’re ready for it. Breakfast in bed, fancy new outfit picked out for you already in your favorite colors. A secret schedule and cheeky smile as he leads you out to town.

Bringing you to the Christmas market, everything is on him. He tells you to buy what you want, eat what you want, he’d pay for it all. Pampering you with snacks and trinkets. Also assuring you that this isn’t his Christmas gift for you. It was simply something he felt like you deserved this holiday.

So when it came time to leave for the dinner party, the two of your were parked outside the studio for a little while. Finally, he uncovers the huge, well wrapped, present that had been sitting in the back the whole time.

A Christmas gift? More like Christmas gifts. K’Sante went all out giving you a whole hamper of things he thought of buying for you over the months. Fluffy bath robes, a silk mask, new skincare, a spa voucher, lotions, a new wallet and bag, tickets to a concert the two of you wanted to go as well as a matching reservation for dinner during the new years. He was your man, and no partner of his was going to not get a full self care package.

----

BONUS

Alune

A manager through and through. Alune would have a fun day of activities planned out for the two of you. Laughing happily as she helps tie a scarf around your neck that suspiciously looks not only hand knitted but also exactly like the one she has around her neck right now that you may or may not have mentioned finding it cute a while back when winter first rolled around.

The day is filled with cute things, ornament making, ice skating, a snowball fight with her brother and the kids in the neighborhood that ends in her laughing and hiding behind you as you get pelted with snow. All sweet winter memories that you two look back on.

As it nears lunch, you and Alune go on a double date lunch with Aphelios and his partner at a small cafe a few streets down. Reserving a specially ordered mini log cake that she takes photos of excitedly before sharing it with you.

Leaving for party later the two of you dress up in matching winter coats. Alune bashfully admitting to you finally that she spent the past month learning how to knit to make you a scarf. Hiding her face in hers slowly as she speaks, telling you how she wasn’t always the best at crafts and stuff but wanted to get you something that would smell like her and remind you of her so she ended up with this.

Reaching out to hold the back edge of the scarf up to your face, ignoring the slightly misaligned stitches, you see a heart with your initials next to hers. Giggling softly yet again as she looks at you, Alune tells you how she knows its kinda cheesy, but stuff like that were back in trend now anyways right?

[apretendpoet]

12/22/2024

FANFIC:

zerxus/evandrin smut -

starting: 1,696 words

ending: 1,696 words

(by the stars above // i know we were in love)

dorym happy ending -

starting: 552 words

ending: 1,312 words

orym post canon temporary amnesia -

starting: 782 words

ending: 782 words

evandrin & laerryn friendship fic -

starting: 725 words

ending: 1,249 words

beauty and the beast au -

starting: 168 words

ending: 168 words

ORIGINAL FICTION:

belong.mp3 -

starting: 47,494 words

ending: 47,494 words

DRAFTING:

ring of brass 6+1 saves (fic)

tlovm canon adjacent - "they forgot me" (fic)

zerxus/evandrin princess bride au (fic)

calamity roaring 20s/bootlegger au (fic)

high fantasy time travel lesbians (original)

brainrot: the novel (original)

COMPLETED:

nydas/patia smut -

final title: part time soulmate (full time problem)

final word count: 3,872

published (ao3): 2/21/2024

dorian/orym reunion fic -

final title: hold back the river (let me look in your eyes)

final word count: 1,126

published (ao3): 5/7/2024

the battlefield medic fic -

final title: of where we'd end up at the end of it

final word count: 27,267

published (ao3): 7/6/2024

dorym post canon -

final title: there's a world that was meant for our eyes to see

final word count: 2,409

published (ao3): 8/11/2024

dorian goes down -

final title: and i'll use you as a focal point (subject to change?)

final word count: 3,242

published (ao3): 10/26/2024

zerxus on the warpath -

final title: sending my love (from the other side of the apocalypse)

final word count: 8,560

published: 11/30/2024

alterra family fluff -

final title: Exploding Cakes & Sweet Revenge

final word count: 1,174

published: 12/11/2024

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Date With the Side Characters is Going Terribly and Then it Starts to Rain

Brothers ver.

Diavolo

It was a tragic truth that the poor Crown Prince didn’t get to go out and have fun very often, but he had managed to get a singular day off! He of course was going to spend it with the future monarch-consort of the Devildom!

Diavolo had a whole list written out that was full of fun cliche date activities that he wanted to try, and it was also full of stuff MC said they wanted to do, so the date was going to be completely perfect.

As Diavolo and MC walked hand in hand to Madame Scream’s, they both took notice to the fact that literally every single demon in the vicinity was staring at the two of them.

The crown prince laughed it off, saying that MC looked so positively radiant that everyone couldn’t help but stop and look. MC laughed and leaned their head against Dia’s arm, but both of them knew full well that everyone was really staring at Diavolo.

To be fair, wouldn’t you stare if the most powerful person in the entire realm walked by holding hands with a pathetic little human?

They got to Madame Scream’s, got their sweets, then Diavolo got a phone call. It was Lucifer frantically explaining that the RAD gym was on fire and he needed to run everything by Diavolo before he could do anything about it.

That ate up about fifteen minutes and the desserts ended up getting cold… Diavolo tried to make light of it as the two finally got to eat their chocolate chip cookies.

“So apparently one student thought it would be a good idea to set a firework off inside, you know I encourage having fun at school but maybe they should have set this off outside.” “Maybe..?”

Next it was time for a romantic walk on the beach! That would have gone better if Diavolo remembered it was giant-crab season. As cool as it was to watch Diavolo hammer-throw an eight foot tall crab into the ocean it left MC’s ankles vulnerable to get pinched by regular sized crabs.

And maybe they both should have wore appropriate shoes… they were sinking into the sand and it was getting into their shoes…

Okay, so the beach didn’t work out, Diavolo had plenty of other ideas! They just had to- wait he was getting another call.

Half an hour later, Diavolo was finally able to hang up and gave MC an apologetic look. He said that he needed to cut the date short and go to an unavoidable meeting…

Oh well, at least this date couldn’t get any-

A loud crack of thunder caused Diavolo to nearly drop his phone in surprise. Oh… oh no… not rain…

Large droplets of water pelted the pair as they waited for Barbatos to pick them up. Diavolo slowly lifted up his arm and shielded MC from the rain as best he could. Well… this outfit was ruined, the least he could do was try and save MC’s…

“Well…” Diavolo tentatively began. “I heard getting caught in the rain is supposed to be romantic..?”

MC only sighed and moved a little closer, they folded their arms and stared blankly ahead. Their glassy expression made the crown prince’s heart sink right to the floor. Maybe he could cancel the meeting! He promised he’d spend more time with MC and he intended to keep it!

“MC, I could-”

“Dia, no.” MC looked up and gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I knew what I was getting into when I said I’d be with you. Your kingdom is more important than one little date.”

“But I wanted to make you happy today…” Diavolo mumbled. His kingdom had always come first, before his friends, before MC, before even himself, was it so much to ask to have just one day for him to spend with the person he loved?

The human reaches up and lowered Diavolo’s arm and looped it around their shoulders. “And you did, any time that I get to spend with you makes me happy. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. The crab moment was pretty awesome.”

MC pulled out their DDD and showed Diavolo a picture of himself chucking the giant crab into the watery horizon. “We can put at least one moment of this date into the photo album.”

The precise tapping of the falling raindrops cause the DDD to flick to the next picture, which was an awkwardly angled snapshot of MC brandishing a stick at a much smaller crab who had attached its claws to their ankle.

“Uh, maybe not this picture…”

Barbatos

The poor butler rarely ever gets a day off, and he could tell MC missed spending time with him, so he asked Diavolo for a day off.

Of course Diavolo said yes, but when the day of the date came…

Barbatos saw every mishap and disaster coming a mile away. The smart thing to do would be cancel the date, but NO. Barbatos was going to use his powers for good and make sure MC had the time of their life!

The first disaster was supposed to come in the form of a pickpocket stealing MC’s wallet, key word being supposed.

As the perp made their way through the somewhat crowded sidewalk, fully prepared to swipe some wallets, Barbatos quickly twirled and dipped MC out of the way. This action also conveniently had the result of Barb knocking the pickpocket out cold.

MC of course, was none the wiser of the attempted theft and just assumed Barbatos was being suave (tm).

The second disaster was both MC and Barbatos getting hot coffee accidentally spilled all over them. Or it WOULD have been if Barbatos hadn’t quickly notified the person that would have spilled the drink that their shoelaces were undone.

Hell yeah! Second disaster averted!

The date progressed smoothly, well, as smooth as it could have gone. All those days of work and the task of making sure MC was none the wiser of any of the nasty things that could have ruined the date was really making Barbatos tired…

“Barbatos, are you alright?” “*exhausted breathing* Y-yes dearest, of course. Don’t trouble yourself.”

MC would have bought that lie if Barbatos didn’t look like he had just finished running a ten kilometre long race through a heatwave.

After making sure MC was not in the path of the escaped hellhound that would be running down the street in three, two, one, there it went, MC was safe and sound, Barbatos sighed in relief.

Just one more thing…

In the smoothest possibly motion, Barbatos opened the umbrella he had been carrying and held it over himself and MC.

MC looked up at the umbrella perplexed. “Barbatos, why-”

Thunder rumbled as the first drops of rain pelted harmlessly against the umbrella. Barbatos smiled softly and took MC’s hand. “Did you enjoy the date, darling?”

“Have you been doing damage control all day..?” MC asked. “Oh no wonder you look exhausted…”

Barbatos’ face burned with embarrassment when MC wrapped their arms around him.

“You work way to hard, this date was supposed to be relaxing for the both of us,” MC sighed. “You know what? We’re going to go back to the Demon Lord’s Castle, and I’m making you tea and snacks.”

“MC..?”

They began to pull Barbatos in the direction of the castle and plucked the umbrella out of his hand.

“I’ll hold this.” MC smiled brightly. “You relax, mister.”

Barbatos was about to protest, then sighed, no future he could see in his brief overview involved MC giving up on their new mission to make him take a break. He felt himself smile, he really lucked out with this human, didn’t he?

Simeon

The next volume of TSL had been released and Simeon was officially completely exhausted. He had spent the past two days signing special hardback copies and his writing hand was officially deceased.

He needed to relax and unwind… who better to do it with than MC? Simeon simply invited MC over to Purgatory Hall to hang out.

Oh my~ premarital eye contact~

It was just so nice, MC rested their head on Simeon’s chest while they lounged in bed watching TV, their hands gently intwined, the smell of Luke baking cookies…

Simeon let out a content sigh, he was truly and completely at peace in that moment. The soft knock on the door to his room barely phased him.

Solomon poked his head into the room with a bright smile.

“Hi you two, so sorry to barge in on your date, but before Luke took over the kitchen I made way too much food. I’ll bring some in for you guys!” “Solomon no-” “Wait!”

The date was now in intense danger. They needed to get out of there immediately! The first thing the angel could think to do to save the love of his life was to throw them out of the window.

Fret not, MC’s fall slowed considerably and they gently landed on the grass outside thanks to Simeon’s magic, but the angel himself was not as lucky. Yes his fall was slowed, but he still faceplanted into the dirt.

The two ended up running for dear life away from Purgatory Hall, further exhausting Simeon.

Well, at least they ended up near a very pretty fountain. Simeon and MC sat on the fountain ledge and resumed their snuggling.

Until Simeon got a phone call from a very frantic Luke begging for help with his math homework.

Due to being quite rusty at the subject, Simeon had to teach himself how to calculate the square root of something and then teach Luke, which was honestly frustrating for everyone involved.

After the homework was felt with, Simeon got ready to sit back down on the fountain ledge, ended up missing, then slipped straight into the fountain. It was a good thing that the water was shallow…

Then to MC and Simeon’s horror, it began to rain.

“Well…” Simeon sighed, he accepted MC’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled out of the fountain. “This isn’t so bad..?”

Lightning cracked in the distance, Simeon pulled MC into his arms on reflex, only to then realize that MC had become just as soaked as he was.

“I… sorry, MC.”

Simeon slowly unwrapped his arms from around MC, but the human remained firmly in place. “Ah, it’s fine. Want to call a cab or back to Purgatory Hall?”

“Y-yes, that sounds-” Simeon felt around for his phone, then winced and looked into the fountain. His phone was lying at the bottom of the fountain… “Do you think you could call?”

MC perked up and planted a kiss on Simeon’s cheek. “Of course, we can cuddle in the car.”

“That sounds wonderful…”

Solomon

Solomon decided to text MC at two in the morning to ask them out. In his defence, he was up late making potions and didn’t notice what time it was.

“Hey MCMCMCMCMC-” “ITS TWO OCLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING.” “Wanna go on a date tmrw?” “…ok.” “🥳” “see you tomorrow, Solomon.” “Oh yea- that reminds me- look at this snail I saw yesterday.” “Effervescent.” “Marry me.”

Obviously super happy that MC said yes to the date, Solomon was newly rejuvenated and went back to making his potion. It was six in the morning when he realized that maybe he should have just quit while he was ahead and went back to sleep.

It was a little late for that! He needed to go to school, then go on the date. Solomon gracefully took MC’s hand, led them out of the school, then fell down the stairs.

It um… may have messed up his tailbone. Solomon never felt more like an old man than when he and MC sat down at the cafe for coffee and MC had to help him into his seat.

The coffee arrived, MC and Solomon drank it, and Solomon just sighed in relief. This was nice, time with his sweet MC…

The way they made him feel so completely at ease… that smile… those eyes… those eyes were looking very confused-

“Solomon…” “Yes my sweet?” “There’s uh… there’s a giant spider on your head…”

…Solomon looked up and the giant spider fell right into his drink. He wasn’t thirsty anymore.

A little later, he and MC were walking hand in hand through the park, the darkness of the Devildom was almost comforting as the fireflies and pixies created little balls of light that danced around the pair.

It was such a soothing sight to behold, Solomon and MC sat down beneath a giant tree. MC rested their head on his shoulder, and Solomon let out a content sigh. He was just going to rest his eyes for a moment…

Solomon was harshly shaken awake by MC who yelled at him for falling asleep in the presence of pixies. Solomon had completely forgotten that pixies like to possess sleeping people. That was probably why he was awoken in the middle of stuffing his face with cookies that were in his backpack.

The two unanimously decided that it would be best to head back to Purgatory Hall. When the two had just returned to civilization… Solomon heard thunder.

Quick as a flash, Solomon looped his arm around MC’s waist and pulled them closer, using his other hand to draw a circle above them, when the rain began to fall, the two were completely dry thanks to the shield.

“Ha… HA! HAHAHA!” Solomon pointed and laughed at the sky. “GOT YOU BITCH!”

“Solomon..?” MC asked tentatively. “Are you alright?”

The sorcerer looked at his dear sweet perfect MC, gave them a toothy smile, and shook his head. “No darling, I’ve been awake for 56 hours.”

“Wait what? You texted me at two in the morning, you couldn’t have been awake for more than an extra few hours..?”

Solomon peppered MC’s face with sleepy kisses as the rain pattered against the shield. “I have a weird life.”

“You know what, I buy it.” MC sighed fondly. “Do you want to go home and sleep?”

“More than anything, I’ll teleport us home!”

“NO! Let’s just call someone to pick us up!”

[musings-of-a-rose]

Of Love and Mud:❤50 FOLLOWERS THANK YOU!!!❤

Of Love and Mud

Pairing: Francisco "Frankie/Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Word Count: 8643 (this was supposed to be a short one shot WHAT HAPPENED)

Rating: M- Mature. 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I just noticed that I hit 53 followers the other day and I can’t describe how honored I feel that each of you follow me. Being so new to this fandom and SUPER new to writing, I fully expected no one to follow me. And now I have 53 of you! So to celebrate that and to thank you, I grabbed this one-shot idea from my WIP and present it to you as a humble offering. Thank you for following me!

(Reader is you despite what available stock photos may provide (we need to change this!))

**I give full credit for the smut scene idea to @astoryisaloveaffair. She's created a monster and I'm ok with that 😉

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

You’re hanging out at home, resting from a long week at work. You promise yourself that you won’t leave your home all weekend, having done grocery shopping after work the day before. You intend to spend it lounging around, snacking, napping, and binging crappy tv/movies. You’re doing just that, fluffy sock clad feet curled under you as you munch on some chips, laughing at the evil llama in the movie you’re watching, appropriately called Llamageddon. A knock on your door pulls you from your film and you pause it, getting off the couch and walking quietly to the front door. You look out the peephole and see someone you hadn’t seen in years. Wasn’t he supposed to be in Colombia? You open the door to see Santiago Garcia, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Did you get my text?”

“I haven’t seen you in at least 3 years and not even a hello?” You smirk at him and you move to hug each other. Friendship with Santi came easy, especially since you’ve saved each other’s lives multiple times during your time served together in Delta Force. You had missed him over the last 3 years. He went back to his mother’s home land to try and help “empower the people to police themselves”. You’d heard from him a handful of times, but you knew he had to be super busy and not necessarily in service range.

“Come in, Pope,” you step back to let him in and he crosses your threshold, taking a quick look around.

“Another exit out back through the kitchen. Only 1 bedroom and 1 bath,” you say to him as you close the door.

“You always could read my mind.”

“It’s because I think the same way as you. Which terrifies me.” You both laugh as Santi takes his shoes off, stowing them by the shoe rack.

“Drink?” you offer.

“Please.”

“Make yourself at home!” you say as you walk into the kitchen and grab him a glass of homemade lemonade. You come back to the living room and find Santi sitting on the couch, having shoved your blankets to the side to make room for him. You hand him the glass and sit down next to him as he takes a sip.

“Damn. You always could make amazing lemonade.”

“That’s why y'all kept me around.”

“Yeah that’s totally the only reason.”

He takes another sip as you study his face. The only way you can tell he’s aged is by the appearance of more greys in his curls. How is that fair?

“So...did you get my text?”

“I did. Pope, I don’t know. I don’t really do that kind of stuff any more.”

“I know. But I need you, Spectre.” You knew he was using your nickname to get you to reminisce and give in.

“Santi-”

“You were always the best at stealth. Cat wasn’t bad but even he admits you were the best.”

You stiffen at the mention of Frankie and move to grab your cup off the coffee table to take a sip. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Santi.

“You haven’t spoken to him since you helped him get clean?”

You swallowed hard. Looking down at the contents of your glass you shake your head. “No. He made it quite clear that I didn’t need to be there to watch him. I insisted that’s what friends do but that seemed to anger him more.”

“So...you never told him how you felt about him?”

You shake your head again before looking at Santi. “What’s the point? He married that...woman. I won’t be a homewrecker.”

Santi picks up his cup to take a drink. ��So you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

Santi takes a deliberately slow sip. Always one for dramatics. You watch him and feel your patience dwindling by the second.

“Is he ok?” you say with frustration.

“He uh.. He had a brief relapse, which caused his ex-wife to be able to get his pilot’s license suspended. He’s clean now though and doing much better.”

You stare at Santi, trying to process all of this information at once. “He’s...divorced?”

“That’s the first thing you pull from that?” Santi chuckles. “Yeah they got divorced about a year ago, shortly after she got pregnant.”

You spit your drink out involuntarily. “Cat has a KID??”

Santi wipes your drink from his face as you apologize profusely, wiping him clean with a napkin.

“Not how I thought taking a shower with you would go, but ok.” You punch Santi in the arm while he laughs.

“Yeah she just had the baby a few months ago. She served him papers just after she found out she was pregnant.”

“That must have been hard on Cat.”

Santi sighed. “It was. Hence the brief relapse.”

You nodded. “He’s ok now?”

“He’s clean, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You nod, taking another drink, Santi blocking his face while you smack his arm again.

“So...you in, Spectre?”

You stare into Santi’s eyes for a long moment, studying the intent behind them. “What’s everyone else doing?”

“They’re in for the recce.”

“Redfly too?”

“Of course.”

You look down at your glass, swirling it around and watching the contents follow suit. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t do things like this again.

“If you’re all in for the recce,” you sigh, “then I guess I am too.”

“Yes!” Santi claps once and hugs you tight.

“When do we leave?”

“Thursday.”

-------

You can’t believe you agreed to do this. You take an Uber to the airport, not wanting to spend the money on parking. You nervously tap your foot, picking at your pant leg anxiously as your ride pulls into the drop off zone. It’s just a recce. No live fire. You hop out, handing a cash tip to the driver and thanking him for the ride. Grabbing your small suitcase that you would later leave in a hotel, you hoist your carry on backpack over your shoulders and head inside. You find the airline that Santi had purchased tickets through and you check your luggage. You head through TSA, silently arguing with yourself the whole way. You can still back out…. No you can’t. You have to be there….but he will be there...that’s why you have to go… You make it through security and head to the bathroom before finding your flight. You stare at yourself in the mirror, trying to give yourself a pep talk. Your mind goes back to the first time you met everyone, back in basic:

You had met Frankie first and hit it off right away. He was charming, humble, nice, and not to mention the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You crushed on him hard right away but said nothing since you barely had friends and didn’t want to ruin anything. He eventually introduced you to the rest of his friends, Santi, Benny, Will, and Tom. You all became fast friends.

Graduating top of basic at your skill set (stealth/sniper), you were placed in Delta Force amongst your friends. You always had their backs, sometimes literally. You’ve carried them, injured, across enemy territory, and they have done the same for you. All of your bodies are permanently marked from your near death escapes. You were the only girl on their team but they never treated you any differently because of it, placing their full trust in you and you trusted them entirely.

When Frankie met her, you automatically didn’t like her. Thinking it was due to your protective nature (and your crush, if you’re being honest), you say nothing until one night when you all have too much to drink. You confess to Frankie how you don’t like his girlfriend, never have. He doesn’t allow you to explain, but argues with you, saying you were supposed to be his best friend. That night he storms out. You didn’t talk to him for over a year before Santi called you and begged you to help with Frankie and his addiction. You agreed and it took you a while to realize why - you were still in love with him. You helped him get clean, taking him to rehab, and helped him build himself back up when she had left him. Then she came back and you had to go, not speaking to Frankie since the day he told you to leave his house, that you didn’t truly care for him, that you’d done your job as a friend, that he was marrying her. That was 3 years ago. And now he’s divorced with a baby. A BABY.

Would he even talk to me? Does he even care? Does it matter?

You sigh, splashing water on your face and drying it before slinging your bag on your shoulders. You leave the bathroom and pull out your ticket from your pocket, finding your gate number which is, naturally, at the opposite end of the wing. You have time, so you stop at one of those newsstands, grabbing a bottle of water, a random magazine, and some overpriced gum. You walk down the walkway towards your gate when you spot them all sitting together, laughing and chatting. A smile stretches across your face as you look at them each in turn. They look good. Then your eyes land on Frankie and your smile falters, memories of your last encounter springing forward. Despite that, you can’t help but think how good he looks, curls flipping out from under his hat, that patchy beard he has, and those broad shoulders. As if on cue, Frankie turns and looks straight at you, locking his chocolate eyes to yours. Fuck me. You give him a small smile and wave, which he returns. You walk over to everyone and they all jump to give you hugs, Benny nearly knocking you over with his enthusiasm.

“You missed a great fight this week, Spectre!”

“Sorry Benny. Work was insane. All I could do to get through my shifts and then this guy shows up on my doorstep,” You toss a thumb over your shoulder towards Santi, who gives a chuckle.

“You love me and you know it.” Santi smiles.

“You got me there, Pope.”

Will leans in to give you a hug, holding you a little longer and murmuring in your ear “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s had a rough go.” You nod, and say back “I missed that Will-intuition.”

He steps back and smiles at you. “It wasn’t that far away.”

You nod, looking down before looking back up into his blue eyes. “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”

Will pats your shoulder as you give him a small smile, which quickly turns to shock when Tom comes up and attempts to give you a hug. This feels like when Voldemort tried to hug Draco. You hug him, patting him on the back. Then he whispers in your ear “Lock it down. We need you to focus on the mission.” Ah. There it is. “Always.” You whisper back as he breaks the hug.

Frankie stands there awkwardly, shuffling his feet and looking a little lost. You decide to help him out and extend a hand to him. “You look good, Cat.” He looks at your hand and then at you. You see hurt cross his face momentarily before it’s gone and he shakes your hand. “You too.” A few more awkward moments pass before you break the tension, glancing at your watch.

“We’ve got a bit before they board. I’m going to grab some coffee. Want anything?” Benny asks for an espresso to which Tom says “No fucking way do you need an espresso.” Laughter at the shock on Benny’s face before you lean in and whisper “I got you.” Decaf. He winks at you and everyone else settles down in their seats. Santi agrees to watch your bag while you grab your drink.

You head over to join the line, which is at least 20 people deep. You stand there, debating on pulling out your phone and getting lost in the scroll for a bit when you feel him come up behind you. You would know his presence anywhere, any of them really, but specifically Frankie. Without turning, you say “I would’ve grabbed you a coffee if you wanted it, Cat.” He lets out a chuckle “How the fuck do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Know it’s us.”

You pause a moment. “It was my job.”

“Knowing us by our presence alone is not part of the job. How do you know?”

How do you explain that you can feel people? That you can just feel your boys? “This time? Your walk.”

“Excuse me?”

You laugh as you move up in line, finally turning to meet his gaze.

“You have a slight limp from that one guy that shot you through your calf.”

“I remember that. That fucking hurt. I don’t have a limp though.”

“You do. It's slight but it's there. I’ll never forget carrying your ass back to the bird for some ungodly amount of clicks."

“It wasn’t that far.”

“You didn’t have to walk it while carrying someone.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops. “That’s true...Thank you.”

You nod. “It was my job.”

“No it wasn’t. You left your post when you saw me get hit. I remember you taking down what, 20 insurgents trying to get to me? You weren’t supposed to leave your post no matter what. Then you dragged me up a sandy dune and across some “ungodly” amount of clicks back to the bird, meeting up with everyone else, where you patched me up while I flew us out of there.”

You look down. “No one else was as good a medic as me.”

“I think you would’ve flown the helicopter if you knew how while trying to stitch me back up.”

“I asked you to teach me how to fly-”

“And I said no because then you wouldn’t need me around.” You chuckle but it’s laced with memory, the fear you felt that Frankie wouldn’t make it. You open your mouth to say as much, but Frankie cuts you off.

“You never needed me around. That much is evidently true.”

Your eyes flick up to his, bracing for a fight. But you find sadness and regret in his eyes and it makes you falter for a moment.

“You told me to leave, Cat.”

He grimaces at that. “Guess I was an idiot.”

“No argument here.”

You both move up in line, a loaded silence hanging between you both.

“I hear you have a baby now?”

Frankie’s eyes light up. “Yeah. She’s beautiful and tiny and perfect.”

You can’t help but smile at the look of sheer pride on his face. “She sounds amazing. What’s her name?”

“Carmen.”

“I love it. How old?”

“3 months.” A sadness creeps onto his face now. “I don’t get to see her as much as I’d like.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Frankie nods. “We’re divorced. Spilt right after she found out she was pregnant. Well she didn’t tell me she was until after I signed the papers….no, it’s ok. She wanted to make sure we didn’t stick together because of the baby. She’s right - we would’ve done it and been miserable. Who wants to grow up around that?”

“Still. I’m sorry, Cat.”

He meets your eyes. “Yeah. I’m sorry too.”

You order your coffees and stress to the barista that the decaf coffee MUST be decaf but to leave it off the sticker. She laughs at that, completely understanding. You and Frankie make light conversation while waiting, him pulling out his phone to share a zillion pictures of Carmen with you. Proud Dad looks good on him. You grab your coffees and head back to everyone, feeling better about things than you did earlier. You hand Benny his coffee and Tom stands up angrily. You meet his eyes and give him a wink, and he sits back down, fighting back his smirk, knowing what you did.

They call you to board the plane and you all gather up your bags and head down the ramp. When you look for your seat you realize they’re in the rows of 2. You lean over to Santi and ask “You couldn’t have gotten us the middle 3 seats? 2 rows of 3?”

“No. Cheaper this way.” He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, which makes you suspicious.

“Pope, what are you-”

“Oh here’s my seat. Tom, you’re next to me.” Tom ushers you forward nicely a few steps so he can slide into the row, allowing Santi to have the aisle with his bad knees.

Benny comes up behind you, followed by Will.

“Move it, Spectre!” You pretend to be shocked.

“Is that any way to talk to a lady, Benny?”

“I don’t talk to ladies that way.”

You punch his arm as he laughs. Moving further into the plane a couple rows, you hear Benny say “Here’s my seat.” He sits and you lean back to muss up his hair. “Hey! Don't mess with the hair! Go sit down!” You laugh and move forward a step, turning to ask Will if he’s sitting with you. Before you can, you see Will turn to sit next to his brother, giving you a small smile and a wink. You turn back and look down at your ticket, double checking the seating number. You arrive at the row. That means I’m sitting with-

“Do you mind if I have the aisle? My knee has been acting up lately.”

His husky voice is right in your ear and it causes goosebumps to erupt across your skin. You had been so preoccupied you hadn’t even paid attention to him being there. I’m going to kill Santi.

“I uh..no problem. It’s yours.”

You crouch to sit down in the window seat, tossing your bag on the floor and opening it to pull out your water, some snacks, gum, and entertainment. You close your bag and shove it under the seat in front of you with your feet. Frankie sits down next to you and does the same, settling down and bumping your arm accidentally several times on the armrest. How are his shoulders this broad? Fuck.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bump you.”

“It’s ok. Bound to happen.”

“How so?”

“Because you’re so-” you gesture at his shoulders.

“I’m so...what?”

You gesture again at his shoulders, hoping he won’t make you say it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He mimics your gesture.

Why me? “You’re so...broad.”

He looks at his shoulders. “I am?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh come on. No one has told you that before?”

He thinks for a moment. “Not that I remember.”

“No one?”

“No?”

“Not one of the girls you’ve ever brought back home has commented that you’re broad?”

He chuckles, “Why would they?”

You turn to face him, disbelief etched across your face. “No one has said-” you change your voice mocking a random girl “- Oh Frankie! You’re so broad-” you squeeze his bicep and touch his shoulder, missing the way Frankie shifts in his seat “-you’re so strong! I bet you could pick me up or rail me against the wall, hehe!” Frankie looks at you, shifting in his seat some more. “I uh...they...uh..no?”

“I call bullshit.”

“No, really.”

“Having been carried by you, you are strong as fuck. I can tell you - the people you’ve dated seriously lack imagination if they never thought to tell you that.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and you try to cover up the rising heat to your cheeks by fumbling with your headphone cord, trying to not look Frankie in the eyes.

“I’m going to take a nap, Cat. I have a feeling Pope will be keeping us up all night.”

You shove your headphones in your ears, turn on your music, and try to wad up your coat for a pillow to lean against the window, closing your eyes when you finally get somewhat comfortable. You miss the smile that plays on Frankie’s face as he puts in his own headphones.

-------

The flight ends and you feel a hand on your thigh, gently shaking you. You slowly open your eyes, realizing you're not against the window. You sit up and look at Frankie, realizing you must have shifted over to his shoulder at some point while you slept, noticing a wet spot where you drooled on his shirt.

“Oh my God, Cat. I’m so sorry,” You reach in your bag for some napkins, trying to blot at his shoulder. He laughs, watching you juggle trying to apologize without meeting his eyes.

“It’s ok Spectre. Not the worst bodily fluid I’ve had on me.”

“Still, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...invade your space.”

“You didn’t. You were so uncomfortable, you kept moving and sitting up, half asleep trying to stretch and punch your coat. Eventually, you sat up and just shifted over to my shoulder.”

“Oh God. Sorry Cat.”

“If it was a problem, I’d have moved you back. I didn’t mind at all, really.”

You locked eyes with him for a moment, before clearing your throat. “We better pack our shit up.”

-------

You all get off the plane, following Pope through customs and to where he has a rental truck waiting. Your checked luggage gets handed off to an employee of Pope’s, who will get them to the hotel you’ll eventually end up at. It doesn’t matter much as you have everything you truly need with you in your backpack.

You all pile in the truck, Pope driving while Frankie begrudgingly sits in the passenger seat, not used to not being the one driving or flying. You stare out the window as you start the long trek to where the recce will happen, pulling a sleepy Benny to your chest to let him sleep. Eventually, you make it to the middle of the jungle, literally the middle of the jungle, and run the recce.

-------

At the restaurant that night, you all sit there and laugh, reminiscing about your time in Delta Force and things that happened after. The food was delicious and the drinks strong. Santi eventually tells you all about his plan - to avoid bringing in the government and taking down the drug lord yourselves, pocketing the money. After some debate, you all cautiously follow Tom, who agrees to do it, whether driven by the need to prove himself after being forced to retire or the lure of so much money being so easy to take you're not sure.

The mission was meticulously planned but no one would have guessed that Tom would be the reason to miss their hard out, greed outweighing his normally overly cautious nature that has saved you all so many times before. You take out several guards from your position in the trees, angrily speaking into your earpiece “What the fuck are you guys doing? Hurry up!” They eventually leave, and you meet up with Benny at the main gate, both of you hopping in the van pissed off.

You arrive at the tarmac and wait for the helicopter, watching Santi talk to his informant. You look from one to the other, seeing Santi look at her like he’s looked at no one else. He better find her when this is all over. The helicopter makes its appearance. You hear arguing behind you and turn to watch Frankie argue with Tom, something about the weight being too much. You don’t hear all of it but see the look of giving in against his better judgement on Frankie’s face and everyone moves to start loading up the helicopter. You drop off the informant and her..brother? Your spanish is shit so you don’t quite make out what they’re saying. Santi gets back in the helicopter and you hear Tom basically saying you should have killed them. He’s losing his mind, you realize. A little after you take off, you make your way to the cockpit and sit in the seat next to Frankie. He looks at you and smiles nervously.

“You ok, pilot?”

“Yeah. I just...I wish there wasn’t so much weight on her.”

“Frankie Morales caring about weight on a girl?”

He scoffs “Never. I meant the bird.”

You frown. “Is that going to be a problem?”

He frowns back. “I’m not sure yet. But I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

You watch him quietly for a few moments. You always loved watching him fly. The way he controlled the helicopter, flipping switches now and again, the pure look of concentration and exhilaration he always wore when flying..it was incredibly sexy. Before you can get yourself into trouble, you shove your thighs together and try to hide it by standing up, grabbing Frankie’s bicep and giving it a squeeze.

“I trust you, Cat.”

You check on Will, who had been grazed back at the compound, and fall asleep next to him, hand in his in case he needs something. A time later, you’re woken up by the helicopter lurching. That’s not good. Pope tries hitting a button on the wall to release the load you carry below, but it doesn’t work. Before you can offer to do it manually, Benny starts crawling down the rope. Then everything goes to shit. The heli starts spinning out of control, Benny having let go of the rope moments before. You spiral down towards the ground, hearing Frankie try to calmly gain some control to help her land without smashing into the ground. You think I should’ve told Frankie I love him. Then the heli hits the ground hard, spinning around and eventually landing on its side, skidding several feet before stopping. You had managed to hang on during the hard landing, but you're definitely banged up. Running a quick internal diagnostic, you touch your body fast to check for shrapnel or other major issues. Finding none, you drop down to the side of the helicopter, which is now the ground. You hear Benny and Will, and in the distance you think you hear Tom. “Cat?” You try to speak louder, cough, and try again, making your way towards the cockpit. “CAT!” you manage to yell as you get to the cockpit, pulling yourself up and in, seeing Frankie slumped against the side window, which is now the ground. “Frankie!” You move to him, scanning his body for major injuries. There are none, aside from a good gash on his head. You shake him, hearing Benny scream his name from outside the helicopter. “Hold on Benny. I gotta get him out first.” You grab his face and smooth your hands over his cheeks. “Cat...hey Cat… wake up. We’ve uh..landed.” It takes a moment, but his eyes open and find yours.

“I’m ok. Shit, is everyone ok?”

You run your hands over him, searching for the buckle to release him. “I think so. I haven’t heard Pope. Shit, Cat this is stuck. Stay still.” You pull a knife from your vest, pop it open, and cut him out, Frankie catching himself before he hits the ground.

Benny shouts “Cover yourselves!” And starts kicking in the window. When he breaks it, you crawl out, Benny helping Frankie to crawl out of the helicopter. You see Santi stumble towards the helicopter and you jump down running to him and throwing your arms around him.

“Are you ok?”

“A little banged up but yeah. I think we’re all ok.”

-------

Your training kicking in, you feel the villagers before you see them. You grip Santi's arm and whisper "We've got company." He glances up and finally sees the villagers making their way to the load you dropped. You both move back to Tom, who has Benny and Frankie go higher while you stay back with Will. You protest, being the better shot if needed, but Tom points out you're the best medic and Will is injured. You grudgingly agree and move towards Will who says to you "You should be up there, not here with me."

"Next time, don't get shot." He sits down and you angle yourself to check his wound while still keeping the villagers in your line of sight, watching Tom and Santi walk towards them. You tap the mic in your ear, temporarily forgetting they were dead.

“Shit. I can’t hear them, Will.”

“I’m fine. Get up there and have a look. Go around the back and keep low.”

You nod at him and head around the back of the chopper, moving with all of your stealth training. You manage to scale the bird, settling on your belly with the binoculars you had in your vest. You make a mental note of Frankie being to your left on a ridge and Benny on your right on a lower ridge. You put the binoculars to your eyes and don’t like what you see. You can tell Santi is trying to diffuse a situation, hands out in front of him. You see it before you hear it - a shot ringing out and one of the villagers dead on the ground. Tom shot a civilian. You register that a second shot came from where Frankie sits hidden in the grass, but the man had gone down before it. More shots follow and there’s several dead villagers on the ground. You watch Benny join them as Frankie follows suit, everyone on alert trying to get the villagers away from the net. You get off the helicopter and head back around to Will, who’s already standing. You give him a serious look.

“You ok to walk?”

“Of course. A little scrape won’t stop me.”

You nod. “Just tell me if it does. I can help.”

He nods back at you and you both raise your weapons, heading towards the village.

-------

Donkeys. It had to be donkeys. Horses you could deal with, horses you loved, but donkeys? All stubborn, the lot of them. It’s no wonder the word for donkey and the word for stubborn are virtually the same in multiple languages. You help them load up as many bags as they could carry, stowing the rest on your backs. You take an extra bag, grabbing Will’s before he could get it.

“Absolutely not,” you say, grabbing a second bag that Will tried to grab.

“We each need to pull our own weight, Spectre.” Will gives you a stern look.

“Yes, but you’re not at 100% right now. Take it easy. We won’t give you a lesser cut.” You try to keep a straight face but fail and Will smiles back, shaking his head.

“You always were a strict medic.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?”

You start your lengthy trek up the side of the mountain through the jungle. You cross streams where you didn’t want to think about what creatures were hiding in it. Shortly after the river, it started to rain. Of fucking course. You all trudge through the rain for a while, but as the sun sets and it starts to get cold, Tom stops everyone and says to set up a cold camp. This is great. You all manage to find spots up against ledges or under trees or their low canopies, trying to avoid as much of the rain as possible. You make sure Will is in a spot to stay as dry and warm as possible, tossing his poncho over him. You clean his bandage as everyone settles into their spots for the night. You notice Frankie sitting away from everyone, knees pulled up, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. The boys start talking while you finish your work, hearing Frankie say “I was too quick on the trigger. You know, and I know it.” A pause.

“I killed those people.”

“No you didn’t,” Benny says, his usual excitable energy absent from his voice. “We all did.”

You finish with Will’s bandages and tell him to keep it dry, handing him a couple ibuprofen. You watch Frankie from the corner of your eye, your heart aching for him. You put the bottle away and see Frankie stand up, moving away from the group.

“Go check on him.” Will speaks in your ear, echoing the thought in your head. You nod and leave your pack there with a small smile from Will, following the path Frankie took away from the group. About 30 feet away, there’s a fallen log on the ground in a tiny clearing, mud all around it. You see Frankie sitting on the log, rain falling down around the brim of his hat. His face is hard, pensive. You know that look. He pulls his arms from his jacket and puts his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. You’re drawn to him, wanting to help, wanting to make him feel better, wanting to tell him what you saw, wanting to proclaim your love to him. You walked over and sat next to him on the log, placing a hand on his back.

“You didn’t kill those people, Cat.”

“I did,” comes a muffled reply.

“You didn’t. I...saw the whole thing.”

Frankie turns to look at you, moving his hands from his face. “You saw? What happened?”

You take a deep breath. “I saw Pope trying to diffuse a situation. I saw Tom pull out his weapon. He shot first, Cat. I saw it. The man went down before your shot went off. Tom killed those people.”

Frankie studies your face, looking for any clue that you’re lying to him to make him feel better. He finds none and nods, looking down at his hands.

“I landed the bird terribly.”

You scoff. “Are you serious? If it hadn’t been you flying, it would not have ended that well.”

He nods, picking at his hands.

“Actually,” you confess, “For a moment, I...I thought I was going to die.”

Frankie looks up at you, eyes full of concern.

“Not from your flying but from the whole situation. The bird started to flip and I thought that was it.” You take a deep breath. “You want to know what my last thought was?”

Frankie’s expression changes from concern to curiosity. “What?”

It’s your turn to look down at your hands. You get a second chance to tell him. Do it. “It was of you.”

Silence. Then, “Me? Why would you think of me?”

You look up at Frankie, who was already watching your face. His big brown eyes stare back at you, with that lost puppy look and you can feel the electricity in the air. You start breathing a little heavier and vaguely notice he does the same. He glances down at your lips and that’s all it takes. You both close the distance between you, crashing your lips against each other’s. Frankie’s tongue licks against your lips, begging entrance, and you open your mouth immediately, turning to slot your head better against his. Your hands frantically grasp at each other, pulling close, running down your wet clothes. You grab his hat and toss it, running your fingers through his curls as Frankie moans into your touch. Eventually, you pull away from him and rest your forehead against his for a brief moment before pulling back. Frankie looks at you, an apology forming on his lips, mistaking the meaning of your pull back, thinking he’s finally gone too far.

“I love you, Francisco Morales.”

He grabs the back of your head, pulling you towards him, kissing you hard and passionately. A few seconds goes by before he pulls away, you leaning forward from the force of his kiss.

“I love you too.”

Rain pours on you as you both crash into each other again. Lips and tongue moving without abandon, hands moving frantically, searching for zippers, buttons, ties, whatever is holding the clothing on. You pull back to yank your vest off and he copies the move, setting yours behind you on the log and his behind him. You pull him towards you this time, gripping his curls for a moment while his hands hold your jaw, reaching around to hold the back of your head. You move your hands down to his jacket and you feel his hands trace down you, finding the zipper on your jacket but hesitating. He pulls back to look at you and you nod, whining out a “yes”, crashing back into him. Zippers become too hard so Frankie puts his hands under your wet shirt and pushes your bra up, massaging your breasts. You pull back to whine into the rain, throwing your head back and Frankie pulls you closer to suck your neck. You moan out his name and he pinches your nipples hard, lightly pulling on them, causing you to moan again. His hands roam down and find your belt, opening it and attempting to undo the button on your pants. You're not at a good angle for this so Frankie growls and pushes you down into the mud. You hit the ground with a squelch and you can’t find it in yourself to care. Frankie is on top of you, both of you frantically trying to undo your pants. He finally manages to undo your pants, both of you trying to shove them down. You manage to shuck off one boot and you pull your pants off that leg, leaving them dangling from your other one. Rain continues to soak you both as Frankie sits up and moves to undo his pants, your hands trying to help him get the zipper down. You manage to undo the zipper and he yanks down his pants, his cock springing free as he does so. You barely have time to register how thick he is before he wipes his hand on his jacket and runs it through your seam, checking to see if you’re wet enough. It’s not the rain that’s making me wet. Satisfied with whatever he felt, he kneels over you, placing one hand on the side of your head, sinking slightly into the mud, and stroking himself with the other, lining himself up before looking for consent one last time.

“Yes, yes. Please,” you whine out the last word and Frankie groans, pushing into you slowly.

You throw your head back deeper into the mud below you and cry out, scrambling to find something to hold on to. You grip his biceps, flexing under your hands with restraint and holding himself up. He bottoms out and you both moan. He drops his forehead to yours and stays like that a moment.

“Fuck, you feel...so amazing… I couldn’t have...dreamed this.”

“You stretch me so...good… I can’t...I need you.”

Frankie kisses you, surprisingly chaste, staring into your eyes.

“I love you, Spectre.”

“I love you, Cat.”

He starts to move slowly and your breathing increases. You start panting and moaning with each slow thrust.

“Oh God...Cat...Cat…”

Frankie stops, worried he’s hurt you.

“Are you ok?”

“Please...don’t hold back.”

“....what?”

“Don’t hold back, Cat.”

His eyes grow darker with lust and he speeds up his thrusts, hitting you hard and deep. You don’t care if they can hear you - you moan his name loudly, your whine being chopped up due to his thrusting. He grips your thigh and slings it over his hip, thrusting even deeper and hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your hands grip his biceps harder and you leave marks in his skin, even through his clothing. He uses his other hand to grip the log behind you for purchase and slams into you. You sink deeper into the mud with every thrust, hearing the squelch, squelch, squelch as you sink. You grip his ass, helping him to fuck into you, despite your head inching perilously close to the log. You feel the coil of desire burning in your belly, quickly rising and you know you’re close.

“Fra-Fran-Francisco!” You don’t get a chance to tell him you’re close when you explode, coming undone around him, yelling his name, feeling your arousal leak out of you as you writhe under him. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, mumbling dirty thoughts in your ear. You feel his hips start to sputter, and he croaks out:

“Where? Where can I..fuck, WHERE?”

“I’m safe! Fucking fill me up, Francisco!”

Frankie comes with a growl ending in a loud moan and you feel his warmth spreading inside you, leaking out of you. He leans over you, resting his forehead to yours and taking deep breaths. You reach around his head and tug his curls and he moans a little, moving in to kiss you.

“I fucking love you so much, Spectre.”

You chuckle “Good. Because I’m going to need you to help me get this mud out of my ass.”

-------

You somehow manage to get the mud off of you, wiping off your body with a spare shirt from Frankie’s bag. He tenderly wipes you down, kissing your skin as he cleans it. Most of the mud washes off your clothing due to the rain still pouring down. You both clean up as best you can, toss ponchos over yourself and walk back to your friends, you now limping slightly. Frankie notices and can’t help the grin that spreads across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

You arrive back at camp and notice that everyone is sleeping. Or at least pretending to sleep. You definitely weren’t quiet back there. You both huddle under an upturned tree trunk, sitting close together for some sort of warmth, leaning on each other to catch some sleep.

“Did you get the mud out of your ass crack?” Benny’s voice rings out through the rain. You can hear everyone else chuckling and shushing Benny.

“As a matter of fact I did - wait. How did you know there was mud in places it shouldn’t be?”

“I uh...drew the short straw to check on you. Nice form by the way, Cat.”

“Shut the fuck up, Benny.” Frankie says, a small smile on his lips.

“Spectre seemed to love it, Francisco.”

“You’re lucky I’m too wet to come over there and beat you.” You say.

“I bet you’re wet.”

-------

The rain lets up and everyone changes to dry clothes, adding more layers as you head up the mountain. On the side of the mountain, one of the donkey’s goes over, nearly taking Frankie with it. Everyone starts to bicker as Tom just seemed to care about the money. You wanted to run to Frankie and never let him go, but you were stuck behind Will’s donkey. You make it to higher ground and eventually have to ditch the donkey’s, Frankie scaring them off by yelling and waving his arms. You all start the long, cold trek up the mountain. That night, Benny starts a fire and burns money, Tom eventually joining in. The fire makes you uneasy, despite wanting the warmth. Who would follow you up here?

Villagers. That’s who.

Tom was dead. You took turns dragging his body the rest of the way down the mountain. You all decided Benny should go ahead and make sure the boat was still waiting for you. You had volunteered to go but were turned down because Will was injured and you were still the best medic of everyone. That night, the 4 of you threw your bags into a pile and laid against it, each on a side. You stare off, trying to process what has happened in the last few days. You hear Frankie speaking and you catch a few words. “...back on our game….this stops now, you understand?” You hear Santi mumble an affirmative and you zone out again, missing the question Will poses about how many people you’ve killed.

The sun sets further and you’re still freezing. You get up and walk over to Will, intending to check on his wound, but he’s fast asleep. You pass by Pope who is at least pretending to be asleep. You stop at Frankie and look down at him, meeting his deep brown eyes with your own. Without speaking, Frankie opens his arms and beckons you towards him. You sit and scoot up next to him, placing your head on his chest while he envelopes you in a hug. You sit like that for a long while, listening to each other breathe.

“You nearly died.” The words come out of you, nearly a whisper, but Frankie hears them.

“Which time?”

“On the mountain, when the donkey went over.”

He pauses. “That poor donkey.”

“Of course… but for a moment, my heart stopped. I thought you had gone over with the donkey and I had just gotten you back, finally admitted how I felt and by the grace of whatever force you seemed to feel the same about me. And I thought you were....” your voice cracked on the last word and you started to cry. Frankie held you closer, kissing the top of your head.

“Sshh. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here.”

You nod into his chest. “I know. But you almost weren’t. And then Tom was yelling about the money that was lost and I was so...furious with him. It’s like he didn’t care that you nearly died.” You stare at Tom’s body bag as you confess to Frankie, who continues to hold on to you while you speak.

“I told him to get his priorities straight and he told me to fuck off. I was so mad at him...and I still am.”

Frankie kisses the top of your head again. “There’s no need to hold on to that anger. What’s done is...done.”

“I feel guilty.”

“For what?”

You continue to stare at the body bag. “For not feeling as sad as I should that he’s gone.”

Frankie shifts and pushes you up, grabbing you chin lightly to tilt your face up to him. He finds your reddened eyes and smiles at you.

“You are not a bad person.”

Tears roll down your cheeks again as you nod. “To be clear,” you say “I would never wish him dead.”

“I know, Spectre. It’s not your fault.”

-------

Benny comes back and you run to him, jumping into his arms and asking if he’s ok. He brings good news - the boat is waiting for you. Not being able to carry all the bags of money plus Tom down the rest of the way to the boat, you all stash the money bags down in a ravine. You notice Will scribbling on a piece of paper but say nothing.

Somehow, you make it to the boat after nearly having to take out an entire teenage brigade. You manage to haul Tom’s body onto the boat and you all collapse together, thrilled to just be alive. You make it to the town that houses the bank that Santi had setup for the money to go through. Before you go, you all check into the hotel Santi had booked, everyone looking forward to a hot shower and sleep.

You walk into your room, drop your bag, and see your suitcase waiting for you. You open it and grab out the first clothes you see and your toiletry kit, kicking your boots off on the way to the bathroom. You take a hot shower, just standing in the water for a long while, mulling things over. Eventually, you start to wash and find mud still in your hair. You grab it and squish it around your fingers, smiling as the memory comes back to you. You finish washing and shaving and get dressed, drying your hair before you step out of the steamy bathroom.

You move to go lay on your bed, intending to pass out for however long your body wants to sleep for, but instead toss on the sneakers you had in your bag and open your door to find Frankie standing there, fist in the air like he was about to knock.

“Shit! Cat, you scared me.”

“First time I’ve ever been able to sneak up on you.” He chuckles while lowering his hand.

“I must really be out of it.”

You reach out and touch his freshly shaven face, running your hand along it.

“Why’d you shave?”

“Got tired of that sorry excuse for a beard I suppose.”

“I love your patchy beard.”

Frankie cocks his head. “What?”

“The little patches where no hair grows?”

“Ugh yeah. I can never grow a beard. Pope can, Will’s is glorious too.”

“Well I love your patches.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You look at his shirt, a grey button up with white cranes printed all around it.

“What...the fuck are you wearing?”

Frankie looks down at his shirt. “What? I like birds.”

You laugh and can’t stop laughing at the serious expression on his face.

“You don’t think I can pull this off, Spectre?” He’s smiling, but also asking for your genuine opinion.

“You won’t have to because I’ll pull it off for you.” You grab his shirt and pull him towards you and he immediately kisses you, backing you into your room. You kick off your sneakers and Frankie closes the door behind him, all without breaking the kiss. You reach up to unbutton his shirt and you realize he’s only buttoned 3 of them. You pull away to look at his shirt and you can’t help but laugh.

“Hey now, I do like this shirt-”

“You’ve only done up 3 buttons??” You laugh harder at that, causing Frankie to blush.

“Yeah I uh...I guess so.”

“You’re so fucking adorable. I love you so much.” The words leave your mouth and your laugh dies. You hadn’t discussed what happened in the jungle and, even though he was kissing you, you didn't know if he really meant what he said or if it was an “in the moment” type thing.

“Shit, Cat. I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you...uncomfortable.”

He studies you for a moment. “Spectre, what happened between us in the jungle, what we said to each other- what I said to you,” Ah here it is, the ‘I didn’t mean it’ speech that will kill me.

“It’s ok, Cat. You don’t have to.. I get it. I-” you turn away from him and move to walk a few steps away, but his hand grips your arm and holds you firm.

“What are you talking about?”

You don’t look at him but speak softly “I know what you’re about to say so just please...say it.”

“Spectre, I-”

“Just say it, Cat.”

He tugs at your arm trying to get you to turn around but you fight against it and yank your arm from his grip. You take a couple steps away, choking back tears. Frankie calls your name, your real name, which makes you freeze.

“I love you. I mean it, Spectre. I love you. And if you don’t feel the same, I’ll have to deal-” Frankie’s words are cut short as you spin around and throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. His arms wrap around you, holding you impossibly close, no longer hindered by tact vests and thick clothing. You pull back and look at him, giving him a small smile.

“I love you, Francisco Morales.”

Frankie smiles at you briefly before moving to kiss you again, slotting his nose alongside yours. The shirt soon makes its way to the floor and the rest of your clothes join it as you and Frankie stay intertwined in your bed and you never leave each other again.

-------

Author's Note: Yes, Llamageddon is a real movie. Yes it used a real llama during filming (it wasn't hurt). Yes the movie is available to stream on Prime. You're welcome in advance for that cinematic wonder.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @astoryisaloveaffair @softpedropascal

@marvelousmermaid @icanbeyourjedi @livingmydreams13

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@swol-bear @mrsudontknowme @lovesbiggerthanpride

@gallowsjoker @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell

@sunnshineeexoxo @sara-alonso

[zarnzarn]

Stolitz fic rec!!

||

I'm going to just drop my favorite stolitz fics here.

They run at night by @wearemisfortune

Blitzo is always moving because when his body stops, his mind races. This almost always leads to a terrible fucking idea.

Tonight is no different—but the result will be.

-lovely angst, lovely climax, and it captures Blitz's line of thinking in a serious tone but in a way still feels authentic to the character. And I'm ALWAYS a sucker for the sheer unconditional trust trope.

Junctures by @sluttycrimehat

To everything, there is a season.

-I still am in complete awe of how the author managed to fit so much in such little time. The bit at the end always fucking gets me, I love it so MUCH.

The last general by @curtailed

It's in a month after, with Stolas spent and lying on his side, that Blitzo finally musters up the courage to tell him.

-Hello??? BEAUTIFUL post-harvest moon fic, wonderful vibes, love how well they know each other in this one, the trust is amazing. Love it.

You got everything that I want by @bipridemoth

Stolas can’t recall a time where “love” wasn’t synonymous with “pain” for him.

With Blitzo, it’s not love. So, there’s no pain. Stolas doesn’t let there be pain, at least not emotionally, the physical pain is something he quite enjoys. When Blitzo leaves after their monthly night together, he doesn’t allow himself to feel pain, only anticipation of the next time. He likes that there’s always a next time, even though that’s because of his active incentive more than anything else. But that’s alright, he doesn’t want Blitzo to come see him without an incentive. He deserves favors in turn for what he’s giving Stolas.

-Stolas angst!!!! The angst really is delicious in this one, with just as nice of a happy ending. Blitz is confident about the relationship, which is Wonderful to read and the "I know where this is going" segment had me in TEARS.

Between fairy tales and realities by @coloringthegreyscale

Blitzo's a complicated imp and Striker and Stolas accept that. But what happens when the two worlds he's made for himself collide together for one night? Well...

-Okay, so yes, this is striker/blitz/stolas, but it's so good. All three of them have a lovely dynamic, managing to work out somehow, with powerful Stolas, wonderful Blitz and a HILARIOUS Striker. Go read the series, it's a lot of fun and has many cute interactions that made me smile.

The look by @seireileafy

Blitz has been noticing a change in Stolas.

-It's such a CUTE drabble, I adore when one person can tell the other is pining for them, and the LAST LINE FUCKING GETS ME EVERY TIME-

Instead I made my bed with apathy by @thebooklord15

Just like every night before this one, Blitzo glared at the form next to him, already lulled into the bliss of slumber. He had never meant for things to turn out this way-he’d gotten the grimoire already, he didn’t need this man and from the way Stolas treated him it was clear he did not need the imp either.

And yet.

-Jcjdkafj this one is so GOOD I love blitz being pissed off yet too deep in to stop, and like I've said for others already THAT LAST LINE, PLEASE-

Call and response by anon

It was a love story, maybe.

-short but deliciously angsty, with some beautiful imagery, really nice dialogue, and time-doesn't-exist-in-this-motel-room vibes. Love it.

Shovel proof by @kereea

Octavia tries to give Blitzo the shovel talk. He decides to help with that.

-FUCKING cute, love the Octavia/Blitz dynamic, and it has snappy fun dialogue!! Really sweet.

Reaching out, touching me, touching you by @allmightshipserasermic

Stolas hasn’t been able to preen sufficiently in quite awhile, since Stella refuses to do it for him anymore. Blitzo offers to help.

-PREENING FIC is there anything more I have to say?

The skin you could have by @coloringthegreyscale

Stolas catches Blitzo staring and it leads to some talk, some magic, and a little bit of fun.

-Again, BEAUTIFUL dynamic between the two, lots of angsty tenderness, and lovely body imagery.

Different shapes by @sirdust

“Before the exorcist, he taketh the image and shape of a man.”

Blitz catches a glimpse of Stolas’ human form.

-okay, practically a direct opposite of the previous fic, but SO GOOD, I can't describe it. Love the imagery and their comfortable relationship.

A helluva mess by @stratumgermanitivum

It’s not like Stolas isn’t a hot piece of ass, because he is.

And it’s not like Blitzo’s blind or anything, because he isn’t.

It’s just that there’s pleasure, and then there’s business, and never the twain shall meet. (Unless he finally gets Moxx on board with that threeway, in which case, Blitzo fully intends to christen every damn surface of the office except his precious Loony’s desk.)

-AMAZING, love the pining and denial on both sides it's so great especially since you can tell both sides know that they've messed up. Again, LAST LINE!!

Eat the whole cake (it's what you deserve) by @okoyik

"His Highness is on the phone for you, sir," Moxxie says.

Blitzo makes a face. "Who?"

"Stolas," Moxxie supplies, as if that's supposed to help Blitzo understand. His expression is surely one of complete confusion as he stares at the other imp.

"Who the fuck is Stolas?" Blitzo asks slowly, racking his brain for a face to put to the name.

-

Blitzo's memory starts to slip, and all he knows is he needs that owl that seems to haunt his nightmares to stay away.

-HELLO it's only on one out of four chapters for now but it's already SO GOOD I can't WAIT for the rest!!!

Stand tall, but your hands are shaking by @remymorton

It’s been a month since the Harvest Moon festival. Another full moon night arrived, and after that... Blitz ... He's not well.

-wordless cute comfort, truly very sweet, I love it.

Palaces and souvenirs by @cloudysonder

So Stolas is objectively. Objectively. Attractive. Kinda soft-looking, sometimes. Pretty. Whatever. Fuckin’ whatever. That’s always been a thing. Blitzo knew that, Stolas definitely knew that-- whatever.

"This is not," Blitzo thinks, sounding a little bit desperate even to himself, "some sort of revelation."

His flicks of the lighter get a little more unstable, a little more frustrated.

A clawed hand reaches over and takes hold of the lighter, lighting Blitzo’s cigarette with practiced ease, as if he’d done the same thing a thousand times before (He has, Blitzo realizes).

“Silly Blitzy,” he giggles quietly, giving Blitzo a soft pat on the head before curling up beside him, stretching one last time before closing his eyes to sleep.

Blitzo feels warm.

"This," Blitzo tells himself, and it sounds like a command, "will not be a problem."

-I saw the start of this fic on Twitter and have been following it religiously ever since. It's really a gorgeous fic, three chapters up, with the promise of a Great slow burn, fun dialogue and Octavia & Blitz bonding. The level of denial Blitz is in even as he moves comfortably around every aspect of Stolas' life cracks me tf up.

Can't by @hazbincalifornia

Blitzo realizes he feels something something that he doesn't want to feel. This was supposed to be simple.

-feelings realization fic, wonderful, amazing, lovely, also the exact same way I realized I was gay, funnily enough (girl fell asleep in my lap and I was like oh. Oh fuck.)

Too late to stop by @malkaviancake

Stolas spends some time with his thoughts, realizing that his feelings for Blitzo aren't as one sided as he presumed.

-GORGEOUS vocab, I'm truly very obsessed with it. Like most of these stories, LAST LINE!!!!

Itchy with want, thin on sleep by me

It happens in parts- both falling in love and having his eyes opened.

-I will,, finish this one day, but for now here's a few in between moments before they have The Conversation.

Heaven in hiding by me

Their nights together are good, they always are, both of their tastes lining up to be shockingly compatible, but on the days where they end early and they get to spend some extra time cleaning up in comfortable silence or playful banter- and Blitz would rather take a bullet than admit this out loud- but those nights are pretty great too.

-AFTERCARE FIC, I had to write an aftercare fic ft. Good dom Blitz, Stolas taking care of him in return and a comfortable relationship that they both know is going to cause Problems in the future :)

Love in the bones and sinews of this curse by me

Five times Stolas and Blitz needed the grimoire to break a curse + one time they didn't.

-self explanatory. I tried to make it as funny as possible, everyone bickers a lot and Blitz brings Stolas flowers and gifts, what more could you need?

Life is a curse (love makes it worse) by me

"Alright!" Blitz says, clapping his hands together, "Weapons out, and-"

Half pull out some gun or the other, but half just look at him blankly. Blitz wishes for death.

"Save me from this family," He mutters under his breath, "Okay. Take these then." He passes out the few weapons he'd brought along with him and doesn't ask if they know how to use them because if he hears a no, he's giving up and going back home. "Stick close and talk loudly so the others can hear us. Let's go."

They move out, Blitz taking the lead and the rest forming a circle close behind him, starting up a loud conversation about the neighbour's garden. It gives him enough time to wonder exactly what the fuck he's doing here, in a nightmare world with a bunch of pretentious snobs, searching for his stupid Ars Goetia boyfriend, instead of sleeping in his nice lumpy bed back at home.

-a sequel to the previous fic!!! I had to write some Octavia and Blitz bonding, and accidentally added in a bunch of teenage imps who work for Stolas who imprint on Blitz immediately. And there's Eldritch Stolas, protective boyfriends and found family!!! The whole shebang!!!

This ended up being Much longer than I'd expected, but genuinely every fic up there is really good, go check em out!!!!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Dimitrescu Daughter HCs

I thought this would only take a few minutes. I was so, so very wrong. Anyway, some of these are somewhat exclusive to my fic (Serenade), but they’ll make sense even if you haven’t read that.

Daniela:

Others have already talked about how Daniela reads a ton of romance novels, so I’m not really going to go into that very much, just saying that I agree 100%, I mean c’mon, it’s practically canon.

While she mainly sources books from her family’s library, there are a few she’s “acquired” over the years that she keeps locked away in her room. These tend to be a bit, ahem, steamier than her mother would approve of/let her read under normal circumstances.

How did she get these? Well, there has to be someone who delivers goods to Castle Dimitrescu (Duke, perhaps?), seeing as the Maidens need, like, actual food to survive. Sometimes Daniela manages to convince them to order books for her, usually just asking for books by authors she likes, or ones she’s heard maidens whispering about.

No, the delivery person does not read the book’s summaries or reviews, they have a feeling (based on titles and covers alone) that they don’t want to know.

As for her experiences with actual romance… she’s so very, very excited about it, all the time. Wants to kiss every cute Maiden she sees, and sometimes daydreams about a beautiful woman fleeing from lycans who comes to the castle for shelter, clinging to Dani for warmth and protection, and it’s love at first sight, and they kiss and kiss and right as it gets to the good part-! Someone interrupts her daydream (usually Cassandra).

However, her actual experiences are fairly limited. Sure, she has kissed Maidens, but she tends to get over excited. Like in Serenade, she starts to rush the process, and usually ends up draining her “lover” aka victim before anything more intimate happens.

She’s definitely done sexual things, just, well, not with other people. Private things. Usually during or after reading one of her special books. You get the picture.

Because of this, and her aforementioned love of romance novels, Daniela has become somewhat obsessed with the idea of her first time. She wants everything to be perfect. The setting, the timing, who she’s with… Hence her reaction in chapter 3 of Serenade. It’s not that she didn’t want to continue, just that the circumstances didn’t feel right. She’s very particular!

Favorite Music Genre: Girl goes wild for an emotional, gut-wrenching love/power ballad. The type to lie in bed and cry while listening to Hozier or Lorde (not that she can hear either of them, considering her limited music options). Doesn’t admit it, though, and mostly listens to indie pop when other people can hear. That and whatever the Maiden plays on piano ;)

Okay it feels weird to joke about her loving music I wrote, anywayyyy

Hobbies: Other than reading there’s not too much I can see her doing, really. She’d be sure to get into anything that her s/o enjoys, though, even if it’s something difficult or time-consuming. Writing is something she’d love, but it’s difficult for her to keep her focus on just one project at a time. Ideally she’d write short stories, romantic ones obvs, and have someone else proofread/edit them. For the most part she’d write within fantasy and historical setting (seeing as she’s got experience in both of those departments).

ADHD, BABY. Bigtime, seriously. Maybe this is just my adhd ass projecting, but I can’t not see her as having it. For her it mainly manifests with hyper-focusing/difficulty staying on task. It’s like a switch with those on either end, flipping back and forth every once in a while. She can spend six hours reading two different books in one sitting, but if someone just breathes too loudly it disrupts her completely. Because of this she’s somewhat prone to abandoning projects. It’s a sore subject for her, and her sisters are aware, normally only bringing it up if they’re really angry with her.

Opinions on the four lords: Thinks Heisenberg is a tool (pun intended), also thinks that he secretly reads super erotic novels. She doesn’t have any proof, though, and would never say anything about it out loud. Just makes fun of him in her head. Doesn’t actually judge him for what she thinks he reads, just judges his personality and the “need he feels to hide his secret”. Loves Donna, and low-key thinks she’s attractive. Daniela mostly bases that off the portrait she’s seen, but, like many fans, also thinks the hands are nice. The puppets don’t bother her, though she also doesn’t really care about them, other than thinking that Donna interacting with them is cute.

Opinions continued: Moreau is… uh… fish boy. Daniela thinks he’s weird, kinda gross, and hardly considers him a “real” lord. Poor boy :(  At least she doesn’t actively make fun of him?... Even if that’s only because she kinda forgets about him most of the time. As for Lady Dimitrescu, well, obviously Daniela loves her mom. The whole family is very close, and as the “youngest”, Daniela gets a lot of attention. Sometimes she thinks her mother is too strict, but at the end of the day there’s no love lost.

Bela:

Cleans up after her sisters a lot, but still nowhere near as much as any of the Maidens do. Often agrees to help with messes in exchange for blackmail material. “Oh, Daniela, what a shame you broke mother’s favorite dish… I could help, but you owe me one.” At the end of the day, though, there’s plenty she would slide.

Being the “oldest”, she’s expected to behave the best, and often feels more restricted than her sisters. Being an example is hard! Occasionally she’ll have the impulse to rebel, but this usually only manifests in scenarios like the one mentioned above, aka she’ll simply be more lenient of her siblings for a bit.

Overall far less sadistic than her sisters. Cares more about the quality of pain then the amount of it. Only ever goes overboard if someone full out threatens or hurts her family. Insults towards them still earn her ire, and will get her to punish someone, but it’s not enough to make her resort to torture. Usually.

Gets the most restless out of the three. As cool (and large) as the castle is, it’s all she’s ever really known. If not for her weakness to cold, she’d go out on hikes a lot. Nature interests her, fascinates her, but she’d be a little less fond of most of it in person. Like, oh, waterfalls sound so cool, followed by a hundred complaints about the noise. Thinks deer are the cutest shit ever (second only to humans, maybe).

Unlike Daniela (though that HC is relevant almost exclusively to Serenade), Bela has actually slept with a Maiden before. She doesn’t really care for them enough to consider it a relationship, instead admiring them for their entertainment value. Definitely could fall for a Maiden, simply hasn’t yet. Of the three I feel like she takes the longest to fall in love, and even longer to actually act on her feelings. Sometimes resents her siblings because they unknowingly “claimed” a Maiden that she was starting to be interested in. However, she fully acknowledges that she should have said something if she didn’t want to lose the girl, considering the situation they live in.

Favorite music genre: Classical, full orchestra style, with a soft spot for swing/jazz. Enjoys having music play softly while she reads, and is very particular about the volume. Absolutely would argue with her sisters if they tried to change the music or turn it up.

Hobbies: Reading, duh. Less interested in romance than Daniela by a considerable amount. For the most part she reads non-fiction books, enjoying learning about history and the sciences. Astronomy is at the top of her favorites list, followed by biology, then obscure (and often bloody) pieces of history. Niche=perfect. Also enjoys music, even if she had to rely mostly on self-teaching books. Knows the basics of piano, but doesn’t actively play, much preferring both the violin and harp. Most of the time she’ll only play if she knows her sisters won’t bother her, or if her mother asks her to.

Opinions on the four lords: Admires Heisenberg’s work/his edgenuity, but thinks the actual man is a temperamental child… who smells like wet dog. He’s only been at Castle Dimitrescu a couple times (per Mother Miranda’s request), and both times Bela moved to the other side of the house so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge his existence. While she would never admit it, she’s low-key creeped out by Donna’s dolls, and really only tolerates Angie. However, she would never act on her nerves, out of consideration for Donna’s feelings. She knows that her mother gets along well with the dollmaker, and keeps this at the forefront of her mind.

Opinions continued: “Moreau who? Oh, the fish guy? He’s still alive?... Good for him.” Wants to make Lady Dimitrescu proud, but not as desperately as Cassandra. Unknowingly mimics a lot of her mother’s little habits and ticks, and would be quietly embarrassed if someone pointed it out to her. As mentioned previously, she feels like she has to be an example for the others, and somewhat resents the pressure this puts on her. On the other hand, she does enjoy being “responsible for” (read: in charge of) her sisters. Additionally, she is the most likely to get away with lying to Alcina, though she does not often do so. This isn’t because she’s the most manipulative (that’s Cass), or the best liar (that’s Dani, if she’s trying), but simply because Alcina doesn’t think her oldest daughter would lie. Even if she doubts something Bela says, she’ll usually give her the benefit of the doubt… as long as it doesn’t happen very often.

Cassandra:

Sleeps the most of the three, if only because she’s the most active of them. Not as fast as the others while in swarm mode, but the fastest on foot, partially because she’s more likely to simply walk places. She knows the sound of feet on the floor scares the Maidens, and she drinks their fear with utter pleasure. Additionally she claims that it just feels nice to “stretch her legs”. But she will not hesitate to enter swarm mode when chasing someone. As fun as it is to smell their fear, she can get impatient, wanting to get close and personal to her target.

Tends to hide most of her feelings, sometimes even opting to “convert” them into anger. In other words, think of her emotional state as an ever-filling bottle of water. As things happen, she feels emotions, and the rate at which water pours into the bottle increases. Ideally if the water level started getting too high, she would address whatever is increasing the flow of water. Instead of that, she often uses anger, which is equivalent to shaking the bottle a bit and letting water messily spill out of it. Doesn’t address the actual problem, but let’s her release some pressure/free up some room.

Goes through Maidens faster than her siblings (yes, even Daniela “draining you of blood is romantic” Dimitrescu). Not all of them even die in the basement, sometimes what was supposed to be a “warning” turns into “oh shit the blood won’t stop coming out, this is how I die, in this accursed castle, no friends or family to mourn me, just the painful knowledge that I will not be the last, I will die for no cause, no glory, just the bitter whims of a blood-soaked mistress” or something along those lines.

While more likely to get attached to someone than Bela, Cassandra isn’t one to do much about it. She might flirt, might even try to kiss (or, uh, kiss while also not wearing clothes wink wink), but she won’t (usually) claim someone as her own, or protest if one of her sisters wants to have some fun with them (even if it’s the bloody kind of fun). Technically gets over breakups and “breakups” (i.e. death) easier than either of her sisters. To be fully accurate, Daniela still goes through lovers faster, but she also remembers them and cares for them for longer post-breakup.

Somewhat of a blood kink. Like, more than vampires automatically have. In intimate settings she cares more about the quantity of blood and what she can do with it (loves bloodstains) than what causes the bloodshed.

Favorite music genre: Rock ‘n roll. Leans towards older stuff, as well as heavier songs. Soft spot for symphonic metal, but doesn’t admit it out of the fear that some might consider it a “weaker form” of the genre. Almost exclusively listens to bands that have female vocalists, and gets crushes on them more than she’d ever admit.

Hobbies: Art! Painting, mostly, but dabbles in sculpture from time to time. It’s been too long since I took an art class for me to suggest a style for her paintings, but I imagine her sculptures would be somewhat abstract. Her art would revolve around emotion, the stronger and rawer the better, with viewers often being left uncomfortable. While Alcina buys plenty of art supplies for her, Cassandra is fond of improvising, especially by creating her own “tools” (of questionable efficiency) out of items she has laying around. She is absolutely the one who took her mother’s lipstick. If you don’t know what that means, don’t worry, it’s just mentioned in one of the RE8 notes that Lady Dimitrescu’s valuable lipstick is missing.

Opinions on the four lords: Tolerates Heisenberg more than the rest of her family by a considerable amount. She’s seen glimpses of his work, his steampunk-adjacent style, and actually kind of digs it. While Bela cares more about the science behind his work, Cassandra just digs the aesthetic. Sometimes for her art she also needs things she can’t get from the castle, and are too obscure to get from a merchant, so she trades tools/ideas with Heisenberg in exchange for him making something for her. “Can you make a battery but whenever it’s in use it makes a horrible screaming sound?” “Yes. PS I hate your mother and Miranda.” “I didn’t fucking ask.”

Opinions continued: Doesn’t really care much about Donna, but acknowledges her as a fellow artist, and would be willing to consult her if she talked more (and talked without Angie). Cassandra hasn’t met Moreau, thankfully (he would cry). Knows about him from her sister/mother, and as a result doesn’t care about him. Internally whenever someone mentions him, she pictures, like, a Goldfish Cracker (the snack that smiles back) with legs except also it’s green and moldy.

Opinions cont.: Loves her mother so much. Determined to please her, to make her proud, but often left feeling less loved than her sisters. This strains her relationship with her family, not that she’d ever voice her feelings and talk through the issue. Let’s be real, Alcina would probably feel guilty for not realizing how Cass felt. Nonetheless, Cassandra probably spends the most time with her mother, often offering to assist her with tasks, or trying to get her to appreciate her art.

[avewritesmr]

I want to req reaction, but it's kinda complicated 😂 member having bad time and accidentally lashing it out on their boyfriend whose not mad about it or cry but understand the member. Well the reaction is, what the member do after realising what they just did. For woozi, seungcheol, mingyu, hoshi, and jeonghan. Is it ok for 5 people? Sorry if it's confusing 😅

Reaction to their boyfriend being calm when they lash out

A/N: Sorry this is so long and not so good, I hope you like it anonie, sorry if it isn’t exactly what you wanted, not sure if I am gonna keep writing reactions  ☹️

Choi Seungcheol

Seungcheol is a little old fashioned in his thinking.

He is been taught respect from when he was very young and he’s carried the ideas of respecting someone age through into adulthood almost to an unhealthy point.

When he gets angry with higher ups in the company who are usually older than him he is good at controlling that anger, because they are older than him and for no other reason.

The unforeseen consequence of that is lashing out at members or staff or y/n, basically anyone that pushes him a little too far when eh is already wound tight.

When he gets angry it is fast, it comes quickly and it goes quickly but it is never n easily forgettable experience.

His anger comes in the form of cruel words and snide remarks, he goes after the things that hurt y/n the most, he shoots guided missiles that rarely miss their mark.

He only notices what he is doing and what he is saying after he sees tears in y/n’s eyes.

He freezes up and lets the words that he said to y/n sink in.

He. Is. Mortified. And. Disgusted.

Apologise start tumbling out of his lips, an avalanche of guilt and shame over every syllable he let fall from his lips.

He cautiously asks if he can hug y/n, and when he does hug him it is a tight embrace and a muttered string of apologise into y/n’s shoulder.

He will spend hours after the event holding y/n and apologising, for every word. He will beg for forgiveness even when y/n tells him that he isn’t angry or frustrated with what happened.

He’ll promise to avoid ever letting this happen again, he’ll promise to talk calmly with y/n about problems he faces and he promises that y/n will never have to witness him like that again and that every word he uttered was nothing more than a way to get back and the other doesn’t deserve it.

He’ll cuddle y/n that night, hold him tight and close, it is the least he can do for his actions. He stays up for hours after y/n has fallen asleep apologising to the sleeping boy because no number of apologise will be enough to make up for what he said.

Yoon Jeonghan

Jeonghan is laid back, he’s always been laid back.

He is usually in control of his emotions and very rarely is mean with the intent of causing harm. Sure he cheats in games and plots the murders of his group mates behind their backs during live streams but it is all fun and games and they laugh about it later anyways.

When he isn’t in control of his emotions though, it is a bad sight to see, and a horrible thing to stand in the way off.

His playfully comments turn into mean spirited insults intended to hurt the person they are aimed at.

Jeonghan hasn’t gotten this angry often but the few times it has happened it hasn’t ended well, whoever he lashes out at no longer wants to associate with him because if he can say things this mean then who is to say the things he said before as jokes aren’t also insults.

He is fully expecting y/n to react in the same way, instead y/n stands there and listens silently.

Jeonghan in his dizzying angry accuses the other of being a wimp who can’t stand up for himself, he goes on and on about how y/n is pathetic for just taking it all without saying anything, but y/n still doesn’t say anything.

This frustrates Jeonghan beyond anything else and he just has to sit down and and take a few deep breathes, angry tears welling up in his eyes, he can’t even remember why he was so angry and now he is just guilty about having said any of the things he said.

When Jeonghan has sat down and stopped screaming y/n moves closer to him, his hard face softening into a look of understanding, he asks Jeonghan if he wants a cup of tea, they can just sit and talk this over.

Jeonghan just sits there stunned. He had expected y/n to storm out and never talk to him again, heck he would have stormed out and never talked to y/n again if y/n said even half the things Jeonghan had said to him, but never in a million years did he expect this.

He sits there in shocked silence, barely held back tears in his eyes.

He can’t even bring himself to apologise, he accepts the invitation to tea and he sits opposite y/n at the kitchen table with a mug of warm tea, just the warmth calms him down.

When he fully process what he has done his first reaction is to ask y/n why he had reacted the way he had, where was the anger? why was there no anger?

He doesn’t understand y/n’s response, he doesn’t understand why the other doesn’t try to rip him apart right now.

So he apologises, he apologises as many times as he can and he lets the tears fall.

y/n nods in understanding, reassures him that everything is fine, there are no hard feelings harbored on his end.

Jeonghan doesn’t stop apologising until they go to sleep that night, when he wakes up in the morning he walks on eggshells around y/n, he doesn’t take a single step out of line. No playfully mean jokes or soft giggling as he watches y/n struggle with the lid of a jar he can’t seem to get open.

This goes on for days, the guilty cautiousness that leads Jeonghan to pull into himself.

It takes y/n glaring him down and telling him that he needs to pull it together for him to truly get it together.

Things don’t really calm down in his mind and heart until a month later when he just randomly apologises while they’re eating together and y/n smiles and tells him that he had been forgiven right from the start and they hug for a little.

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)

It takes a lot to get Soonyoung angry and people are usually so used to him being happy and laid back that they don’t react well to him being angry.

When y/n had let him rant and scream spitting out vile words for so long he had half expected the other to walk out on him after he was done.

What he didn’t expect was for a teary eyed y/n to hug him and apologise for not being more conscious of the emotions that Soonyoung was experiencing and reassure him that things would get better and he wasn’t angry or hurt by what Soonyoung had said.

The unconditional love he felt in that moment was overwhelming.

He would be so apologetic when he calmed down, he’d just keep saying he was sorry over and over.

He would probably spend the next few days trying to make it up to y/n, he’d give him lots of silent hugs and apologise multiple times a day for what he said.

Even if y/n already forgave him he’d keep apologising.

He’d also actively work towards identifying things that make him that angry and trying to fix the issue that made him angry in the first place.

Honestly he’d just be guilty about his actions and words and try his best to work to be better even if it was something small.

Lee Jihoon (Woozi)

Jihoon isn’t the best at expressing his emotions outside of using music.

When Jihoon gets angry he just bottles it up, all the small grains of anger eventually pile up into a hill and when one grain is added in the wrong place and it causes an avalanche and his anger comes tumbling out.

He’s always had people react badly to his ranting and screaming and he can’t blame them because he says some pretty awful things.

He is always met with anger back, the person he shouts at always retaliates with things just as hurtful and mean as what he says.

So when after a while of him screaming and name calling y/n doesn’t say anything he stops.

He can see y/n’s tense muscles and the way his jaw is set and he thinks the other might walk out or hit him.

When y/n instead just hugs him tightly and holds him despite his effort to get away Jihoon is confused.

At first he pushes and shoves but y/n is stronger and he doesn’t budge he just holds Jihoon and Jihoon eventually stops letting himself be held.

Eventually Jihoon starts crying, first it is a few stray tears and then it is full on sobbing.

He doesn’t cry because of his anger but instead because of his guilt, the guilt that follows lashing out at someone you love.

He spends hours and days after it silently apologizing.

Saying the word sorry has never come easy and he hopes that when he hugs y/n more than once over the course of the day will show the other how guilty he is.

It would take a lot of reassurance that everything is fine and no hard feelings remain on y/n’s part for Jihoon to feel too comfortable around y/n again.

Kim Mingyu

Mingyu’s anger would be short lived but intense, he would lash out really quickly and then he would regret it instantly.

Seeing y/n just standing there calmly and waiting for his anger to fade would be unnerving at first.

There would be a few tears on both ends, y/n would try his best to hide his fear at having Mingyu lash out at him and Mingyu would regret lashing out.    

Mingyu would go out of his way to apologise and make it up to y/n.

There will be small gifts and sticky notes with ‘i love yous’ and ‘I am sorry’ written on them scattered all over the place for y/n to find.

Even when y/n reassures him that it is fine and he doesn’t need to apologise Mingyu will still take him out on a nice date and buy him a small gift.

He’d just go above and beyond in his  attempts to make it up to y/n and ease his own guilt over his actions.

Honestly after a while y/n would straight up have to tell him to stop buying gifts because it is getting too much.

Mingyu would panic and think that y/n thinks he is being superficial and instead writes out this whole letter about how he never meant to come off as superficial and instead just wanted to show his emotions and feelings honestly to y/n.

It would all be very sweet and heartfelt.

Basically he would act like a kicked puppy and would be jumping through hoops to make things up to y/n in his mind because he feels so guilty.

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut  words: 2.2k

a/n: and here we are at the end, tbh im a little sad this fic is over, it was so fun to write and i am DEFINITELY more in love with Atsumu than i was before

one | two | three | four | five |

Epilogue 

Four years have passed since you and Atsumu finally got together, and this is the third year in a row he has an away game scheduled on your anniversary. It’s hard for you to actually be mad, he can’t control his schedule. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be disappointed.

And Atsumu hates that he’s let you down again. Wanting more than anything to finally spend your actual anniversary together instead of substituting for an early or late celebration. You’re a good sport, and he loves you for that, supporting him and his volleyball career without complaint despite his long absences and track record of missing important events.

Though the night before he’s set to leave, you’re sitting beside him on the couch, tucked under his arm while the two of you watch something on the TV. For the past few minutes, you’ve been fiddling with his shirt between your fingers and he knows you’re gathering the courage to say something. He’s pretty certain he can guess what it’ll be about too. And all he can do is brace himself when he hears you huff.

“What if you mysteriously came down with something?” You finally say.

He has to laugh at that. “That’s pretty diabolical of you.”

You shrug, already feeling silly you brought it up at all. It’s not really a big deal, but it’s been three years since either of you were even in the same country on the day you swallowed your pride and stormed into his dorm room to confess to him. Sue you for being a bit put out by it.

“Did you poison my dinner or something?” His heart lifts at the small chuckle he gets out of you from that.

“No, but don’t give me any ideas.”

He rests his cheek on the top of your head, eyes still on the TV as he jokes, “Besides, ya think they have any chance of winning without me?”

He feels your smile against his chest, then jolts at the jab you give him in the side. But still you say, “They’d be nothing without you.”

Pulling you into his lap, he cradles your face in his hands and looks at you seriously. And even after four years, you’ve never gotten tired of the way he looks at you—still like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I know it sucks.”

“It does,” you pout.

Pressing his forehead to yours he murmurs, “I’d be with you if I could.”

You love these intimate moments with him, when you both let your teasing natures fall away and all that’s left is how much you love each other. Even after four years, it’s still abundant, and somehow still growing every day. So, you sink into his embrace and reply, “I know.” And you do. That’s what makes it bearable. Knowing that even though he’s off in some exciting country, playing the game he loves—there isn’t a minute that goes by that he doesn’t think about you.

“You gunna watch the game?”

It so happens that this year, his game landed on the exact date of your anniversary. When he’d found out, he’d vowed to make you proud; to make him being away so often worth it to you. And it makes his heart swell when you say without hesitation, “Of course.”

So, a couple days later as he’s about to leave for the airport, he tugs you to him, lowers his lips to yours and kisses you as if he’s going off to war or something. He knows it’s a bit overkill, but he doesn’t really care. He wants to do everything he can to make it up to you. And damn, is he slapped in the face with how much he loves you when you finally separate and you tease him, “Sheesh, you’ll be back in a couple days.”

His response is to kiss you again and again muttering between kisses, “Gotta get my fill now to tide me over.”

He only leaves when you’re practically shoving him out the door. “You’re going to be late!” He reluctantly let’s go of you, hefts his duffel over his shoulder, takes his suitcase in hand and heads down the hallway towards the elevator. On his way there, you shout, “Say hi to the boys for me!”

He smiles smugly, winking over his shoulder at you. “Will do.” Knowing full well his teammates are extremely jealous of him because of you. And why yes—he absolutely does love rubbing you in their faces.

Once he’s out of sight, your smile falters as you shut the door and turn to your now empty apartment. A sadness falls over your heart that’s familiar but unwelcome. You have to find something to distract yourself, otherwise you’ll just let yourself wallow, which you know Atsumu wouldn’t want.

On the night of your anniversary, you eat dinner at Osamu’s restaurant as you normally do on the nights of Atsumu’s away games. You sit at the bar alone, watching the game on the many TV’s around that Osamu always has on the sports channel when Atsumu is playing. Tonight, you notice Osamu chats with you more than he normally does, and you’re certain he’s picked up on your somber vibes.

He even sits at the bar next to you, talking with you about the game and doing an excellent job of distracting you from the hole Atsumu always leaves whenever he’s gone. Tonight, that hole feels even bigger than it usually does.

“He’s playing good tonight,” Osamu notes, his trained eyes fixated on the TV. No matter how many games you watch, or how often Atsumu talks about volleyball, you’ll never have the same understanding of the game that Osamu does.

Chin resting on your palm, you glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Is he?” To you, it always looks like Atsumu is playing well.

But you like listening to Osamu’s technical breakdown of his gameplay and aren’t opposed to helping his endeavor of distracting you. “He’s tuned in,” is all he says by way of explanation.

You watch the TV with newfound interest, noticing that Osamu seems to be right. Atsumu is normally pretty focused, but tonight whenever the camera shows a closeup of him, the look in his eyes is razor sharp. And yet, he’s still making those insane plays that catch his opponents completely off guard. You can feel your pride bubbling up in your chest like it does every time you watch him play, quirking your lips upward into a small smile.

You love how much Atsumu loves volleyball, and whenever you can you go to his games here in Japan because watching him on TV is nothing compared to in person. Plus, it’s way more fun getting swept up into his arms in the heat of the moment after a win than several days later when the excitement has died a little.

You watch Atsumu the rest of the game, noting how the closer they get to match point, the more tenacious he becomes. But unlike other times, when he gets too excited and starts making insane plays that might not work, he seems to be dialing in even further, pulling the best out of all of his hitters even when they’re at the end of their rope. You at least know enough about volleyball to appreciate just how amazing that is.

To your delight, the Black Jackals win, and as usual several of the players get interviewed afterwards. Somehow, Hinata and Bokuto are still full of energy despite playing a full match, speaking excitedly to the interviewer. The coverage switches to Atsumu’s interview, and you can’t help ogling him a little bit. He somehow manages to look good, his hair damp from sweat but eyes gleaming from the adrenaline of the match.

And as you suspect, like Hinata and Bokuto, he’s pretty amped after the game. Amped enough that he completely ignores the interviewer’s questions and looks right at the camera. Immediately, you’re struck by the feeling that he’s looking directly at you. “I’ve only got one thing to say and that’s happy anniversary to the lovely lady I got waiting for me at home.”

The interviewer flusters, changing gears quickly and trying to get Atsumu to comment more on his relationship, but all he does is give the camera his signature smile and a wink before turning his back to the screen and rejoining his celebrating teammates. You don’t hear what the interviewer says next. You’re pinned to your seat, stunned, until your natural reaction is to burst out laughing at his proclamation.

Osamu just eyes you curiously, a small smile splaying across his lips as you say, “Only Atsumu—I swear.”

He shrugs. “Hey, you picked him.”

“Yes,” you laugh. “Yes, I did.” And you really wouldn’t have it any other way, no matter how long or how many times he’s apart from you.  

You leave shortly after the coverage of the game has ended, bidding Osamu goodnight and thanking him for his company and hospitality. He waves you out, and once you’re on your way home, you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the loneliness you’ve successfully kept at bay until now. The thought of climbing into a cold bed that feels too big when Atsumu’s not there settles into the front of your mind and it’s hard not to spiral into the sadness that’s been looming over you all day.

You sigh, wrapping your coat tighter around you, trudging towards your apartment that you know is going to suffocate you with its silence. You know it’s pretty pathetic missing him so much, feeling sorry for yourself that you’re alone once again on this day, but you can’t help it. The hope that next year will be different is nearly gone by now, your determination to refuse to accept it finally broken.

Entering the dark apartment, you toss your keys onto the counter and make your way to the living room, fully intending on spending the rest of the night mindlessly watching some TV show until you fall asleep. Subconsciously, your thoughts wander to what Atsumu is doing right now. The team usually goes out after games, especially ones they win. And it’ll be a day or two until they leave wherever they’re at, so they have plenty of time.

Part of you aches at the thought of him out, having a good time with his team, while you’re here—alone, watching some lame TV show and feeling sorry for yourself.

What you don’t know, is that Atsumu has forgone the celebration tonight. In fact, he’s rushing to the airport to catch his late flight back to Japan. He booked this flight the day after he found out he was going to be gone again. He might not make it back in time to be there on the actual date, but he hopes the gesture is enough.

On the flight, he thinks about your reaction, imagining your laugh and beaming smile at the sight of him. Daydreaming about sweeping you up into his arms and kissing you until you’re both breathless and dizzy keeps him awake, though he doubts you’ll be when he arrives. That’s alright, he perfectly happy surprising you in the morning too.

He gets back to Japan in the early hours of the morning, and when he enters the apartment, he finds you fast asleep under a blanket on the couch, the TV casting a faint glow into the room. He smiles softly to himself, allowing himself a minute to appreciate how adorable you look. Leaning down, he finagles his arms beneath your shoulders and legs and hefts you into his arms to carry you to the bedroom. To his surprise, you don’t wake up. Instead, you mumble quietly, and his heart nearly bursts at how even in your sleep you press closer to him.

Tucking you in, he kisses you lightly on the forehead before climbing under the covers beside you. Pulling you into his arms, you fit nicely in his embrace, and he falls into an easy sleep.

~

In the morning, your eyes flutter open, blearily looking around and realizing you’re now in the bedroom. When did you move in here? Did you put yourself to bed last night without realizing it? It’s then that your eyes snap open at the realization that the apartment smells like breakfast. Heart thundering against your chest, you throw the covers off you and head towards the kitchen so fast you almost trip in the hallway.

Upon seeing Atsumu standing at the stove, his back to you, it’s hard to keep your feet under you. And without your permission, tears well up in your eyes so fast that a few drops are already sliding down your cheeks. You sniff to try and get a hold of yourself, which gets Atsumu’s attention.

He whips around to find you standing at the entryway of the hallway with tears streaking down your face and immediately his heart softens. “Happy anniversary, love,” he says by way of greeting.

You can’t stop yourself; your feet move before your brain can catch up with them, throwing yourself into his open arms. He squeezes you tight, and then your lips are on his, your fingers tangling into his hair pulling him closer as you slot your body against his. He can’t help chuckling at you, despite thoroughly enjoying this reaction to his surprise.

“I’m trying to cook breakfast,” he says between kisses.

You don’t think he’ll be very hard to convince to abandon the eggs on the stove. With one hand, you turn the burner off. “Don’t care,” you say, pushing him back towards the bedroom.

He happily obliges.

~

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[perhapsthanatos]

06:23 pm with johnny ♡

nct's johnny x fem!reader (somewhat inspired by king henry viii & anne boleyn when watching a documentary about them & their love story as well as gimme gimme johnny era omg)

alternate title: the lady in waiting

genre: angst. fluff. non idol au. royal!au.

word count: 830~

playlist: rain in numbers by beach house, amsterdam by alice phoebe lou & bobby by beabadoobee.

warnings: cheating (if you consider it to be cheating?). having a bit of a historical theme, this is still a work of fiction, so some information may not be accurate. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: this idea was floating around in my head for awhile now & im happy that i am finally able to execute it! big thanks to @2-cute-4-school as well because she helped me fully flesh out this idea! i also wanna apologize, i was kind of rushing when writing this so it might just be mediocre but i do plan on going back later on & fixing it :) happy reading

the early evening starts to descend as the anticipation in the castle thickens heavily. tonight, a ball will be hosted by none other than the royals of the palace themselves. this quite clearly, is a major event and it is not at all like the regular court meetings that you were familiar with. the kinds of balls your monarchs would throw were known to begin during the evening and end during the early hours of dawn doing god knows what. more footsteps and whispers of gossip about the infamous guests coming from all around the world spread more and more rapidly, but you continue to focus on the task at hand.

“y/n, dear, do you mind tightening this a little more for me?” she queen asks as she eyes the mirror in front of her, squeezing her waist a bit more to exaggerate her proportions. it is her ball after all, she needs to look perfect.

“yes, your grace,” you pull the strings of the stays firmly to make it fit even more tighter, looking at her face for a sign of approval.

“perfect,” she smiles as you start doing the next steps.

a bumroll. a simple light silk spanish farthingale boned with cane. a plain underskirt. a beautiful dark patterned full kirtle. a deep red overskirt. a matching bodice with sleeves. more sleeves. gold jewelry and pearls. hair and makeup. all was quite taxing, but you were used to it.

finally patting down on the skirt of her gown, getting rid of any lint, dust or even hairs, you bid your queen a goodbye as she leaves the bedchambers with her mistress of the robes.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, turning to walk to the balcony.

the moon has become a close friend of yours. you often visited her in the hours you felt the most loneliest, whispering secrets only the two of you know. sure, being a lady in waiting and a lady of the bedchamber was a big honor. coming from an aristocratic family to having the chance to be standing beside of the queen in the center of the court was definitely a spot you had to fight for. but now that you are here, having the queen’s trust and being a big player at court, there were times when you wish that you weren’t. these second thoughts have always been something you feared of. what if i’m just being ungrateful? what if i’m just exaggerating things? you memorized it all by heart. if anything, it really isn’t your first time doing this. it is more like a regular occurrence. when you are not doing courtly things, working on your duties or working with the queen, you help dress the her up. making sure she looks perfect for the night and watch her head off to the ball with her (very handsome) king and even the other two of her ladies in waiting. all the while you were left behind to wait for her arrival back to her bedchambers. as much as you love your highness, there were moments where you truly felt lost, but only the moon knows that.

a sudden knocking from the entrance of the room interrupts your thoughts as you straighten yourself up to answer it.

opening the door, you see that it is non other than the king himself.

johnny (the first of his name) has always been known to be a king that the nation wholeheartedly adored. he was handsome, he was clever and he was very kind too. he is ambitious in his reign as king and he stays very loyal to his queen. it would be a lie if you said you weren’t attracted to him, but honestly who wasn’t?

the queen. being the lady in waiting that would most often be tending to her in her bedchambers, you would listen to her venerably spill many little secrets during those sleepless nights after a busy day. she would mindlessly babble on how johnny was such a good person, but she didn’t love him in that way. she only married him because it was arranged by her father to help strengthen the two nation’s alliance. but even then, she never really fell for him and nor did he. she often discussed between her servants in secret on having at least one of her ladies in waiting be his mistress mostly for the convenience of it. she wanted the best for him and her ladies. and it made sense too, it would be something between the court so there would be no major scandal and every lady in waiting was already from a very wealthy family so it was a perfect fit.

“your majesty,” your head instantly bows on instinct before opening the door wider to see him in full. it’s hard to not stare, especially in his formal attire that fits his frame so perfectly. “what are you doing here? shouldn’t you be with the queen down at the ball?”

“i wasn’t feeling up to it. besides, the queen has the ball covered, and i wanted to spend more time with you.”

his bluntness has rendered you speechless. the king of all men wanted to spend time with you? sure, you’ve noticed the little glances he’d throw your way during court meetings but you never really thought of it. but without your knowledge, he violently liked the way you held yourself and how you would speak so bravely during those meetings. devout, unflinching and composed to the end in a room full of noblemen.

“may i enter?”

you open the door wider for him to step into the room. you see him go straight to the balcony, his eyes set on the moon.

“the moon looks lovely tonight,” he smiles, his forearms leaning on the railing.

“she sure does,” you mirror his movements, resting your hands near his. as you admire the moon, he can’t help but admire you in the moonlight.

as you both sit in a comfortable silence together, whispers from the servants below subtly reach the queen one lady in waiting at a time. she smiles in victory. her little plan finally worked.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[kookiesjoonies]

where you belong | myg.

main pairing: idol!yoongi x wife!reader

fic type: one shot

word count: 3.3k

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: the beginnings of oral sex/shower sex, mentions of spitting, nipple play

summary: five vignettes of what being married to yoongi for over three years looks like.

a/n: me: i have the bladder of a squirrel, i’m always getting up to pee. lindy: write a fic like that. and so, i did. enjoy! let me know which vignette was your favorite! also i’ve tried to upload this fic eight million times but it never tags, so. i’m trying again and leaving it up whether it tags or not LOL.

April 12th, 2020. 3:04am.

It seemed like more often than not, you were waking up in the middle of the night with the desperate need to pee. You’d always had the bladder the size of a squirrel, making it difficult for you to get a full night of rest. Every two or four hours, you were awake and trudging your way to the bathroom.

You’d been laying in bed tossing and turning for an hour, trying to get comfortable but finding it more difficult than usual. Lying on your back wasn’t working, so you’d decided to try rolling over and onto your stomach. Which would have worked, except for the fact that you were now pressing on your bladder. With a heavy sigh and a groan, you shoved the covers off of your body and stood up from the bed.

Yoongi, your husband of nearly four years, had been trying his hardest to sleep all night long. But every time you moved or got up, you woke him up too. It was his turn to groan, a loud and frustrated sound that came up from his throat as he dragged the palms of his hands over his face.

“Y/n, please, for the love of God and my sanity, don’t get out of bed again.”

You considered hitting him over the head with a pillow, because did he really think you’d be constantly getting up like this if you could help it?

Your arms crossed over your chest as you peered down at the black haired man below you, “If I didn’t have to get up I wouldn’t, Yoongi.”

“Just squeeze the pee out, Christ.” He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.

He didn’t mean to sound hateful, but he was always such a grump when he was woken up. And you couldn’t really blame him, because you were the same exact way.

Still, it was the middle of the night, and you’d slept poorly so far. His attitude wasn’t helping, and you wanted nothing more than to be away from him.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, albeit dramatically, and made your way out of your master bedroom and down the stairs.

You’d decided to use the powder room off the living room, and sleep on the couch afterwards. If Yoongi wanted peace that badly, you’d give it to him.

Yoongi hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off again. And when he woke up, feeling slightly more rested than usual, he immediately grew suspicious. His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand that read 7:14 a.m.

He sighed, relieved. It was his day off, and he was glad he could stay at home and sleep in. And spend the morning with you wrapped up in his arms. He rolled over to pull your body closer to his, cocking an eyebrow when he realized your side of the bed was empty and he’d just been greeted with cold sheets.

Maybe you’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, he thought. He’d given you a few moments to return, and when you didn’t, he huffed and tossed the blankets covering the lower half of his body aside.

He decided to go searching for you, starting in your en-suite bathroom. His eyes scanned the decently sized room, frowning when there was no sign of you. It was still too early for you to willingly be awake, and he knew that, so his next plan of action was to search the kitchen. You were terrible for drinking sodas all throughout the night, which might’ve explained why you were always making trips to the bathroom.

Yoongi didn’t even make it into the kitchen before he saw you sleeping peacefully on the couch, curled up into a fetal position and emitting tiny snores every few seconds.

He cracked a smile at the sight, but then went to roll his eyes at you.

“Baby,” he whispered, crouching down beside of you to gently shake you awake, “come on, come back to bed.”

The sound of your husband’s sleepy voice pulled you out of your state of unconsciousness, “What time is it?”

“A little past seven.” His hand reached forward to lightly stroke at your frizzed up hair, and you couldn’t help but to lean into his sweet touch.

“But you said you didn’t want me up there.”

“Uhm, no I did not.” Yoongi was quick to be defensive, “I said for you not to get out of bed again, were my exact words. I didn’t mean for you to come down here to sleep.”

“Well, as long as I’m here, you won’t have to worry about it. Just go back to sleep.” Even in your half asleep state, you couldn’t help but to argue.

If he didn’t love you so much, he probably would’ve let you have your way. Let you sulk and pout on the couch while he slept soundly upstairs, but he couldn’t do that.

“Dude, you’re so dramatic.” He sighed, scooping your limp body up and into his arms.

You shrieked as he did so, your eyes springing open immediately.

“Yoongs! What are you doing?”

“Taking your ass back to bed where you belong.” He began his ascend with you up the staircase, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Can you take me to the bathroom first? I have to pee.”

“Of course you do.”

April 18th, 2020. 2:53pm.

Lazy Saturdays with Yoongi were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were your favorite.  

There were plenty of chores that needed to be done, plenty of projects outside that needed to be started, and yet the two of you had been planted on the sofa since you’d woken up.

You were lying down with your legs in Yoongi’s lap, watching the cooking channel. And he had his feet propped up on the glass coffee table thumbing through a nonfiction novel. The sunshine poured through the narrow window panes, the scent of the coffee you’d brewed earlier still lingering. Holly was lounging on his bed beside of the fireplace on his back, snoozing with his paws in the air.

“He looks comfortable.” You nodded your head in Holly’s direction, causing Yoongi to look up from his book.

He chuckled lowly, “He’s got it made. He lives in this big house with no responsibilities. All he does is eat and sleep.”

“I mean,” you started, “that’s all I do too, really.”

Yoongi nodded, tapping his fingertips against your kneecap.

“And as long as I can help it, that’s all you’ll have to do. You took care of me for so long, it’s my turn.”  

“You spoil me, Min Yoongi.” You couldn’t stop the smile that cracked its way onto your face.

At the minute, you were enrolled in university and only had another year or so before you’d be graduating. You had every intention of working once you were out of school, but you couldn’t lie, it was nice to know that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to. You’d been with Yoongi for so long— since before his debut with BTS.

He’d always promised you that one day he’d be able to provide for you fully, and now, he was doing that tenfold. The two of you were well off now, but in the end, that didn’t really matter. He could be a billionaire, or have one penny to call his own, and you’d still love him all the same.

“Yes, I do spoil you. And I intend to keep doing so, Min Y/n.” He’d abandoned his book, letting it lie on the armrest beside of him.

He lifted one of your legs, pressing tiny pecks against the skin of your calf muscle. You giggled at the tickling feeling, your laughter coming to a quick halt as insecurity suddenly took over. Jerking your leg from his grasp, Yoongi cocked a dark brow at the action.

“I haven’t shaved in like, a month, Yoongs.”

“Are you kidding me?” his eyes rolled and he reached for your leg again, “you know I don’t care about that shit.”

“Yeah, I know. But I do.” You frowned.

“Too bad.” He changed his position so that he was lying in between your legs now, his lips trailing from your knee to the top of your thigh.

“What are you doing?” You bit down on your lower lip to take it in between your teeth, your fingers instinctively curling into your husband’s dark strands of hair.

“Showing you how much I don’t give a shit about some damn leg hair.”

He sucked a purple bruise into your skin, and you couldn’t fight back the moan that left your lips.

Yoongi was quick to push your shorts to the side, his tongue dragging along the folds of your cunt over your cotton panties. The feeling of his teasing had you whimpering, and you were begging for him to give you more— to which he happily complied.

April 30th, 2020. 10:19am.

In theory, Yoongi having a week off from work should be amazing. Your time spent together should be filled with romance, sex, home cooked meals and stereotypical couple shit. Most importantly, the two of you should be over the moon that you were getting such quality time together. And you were... mostly.

But he’d been home for five days already, and you were silently wishing he’d visit the studio at least once— and he was silently wishing you’d take a night to go out with friends. You weren’t used to being in each other’s company for long, thanks to what your husband did for a living, so whenever he had more than a few days home at a time it was always an adjustment.

Yoongi had only been awake for a total of five minutes and you’d already found a way to annoy him, without him having to even lay eyes on you.

He was at the sink, about to brush his teeth when he noticed the cap sitting beside of the toothpaste. He was sure that one day, he would roll his eyes at you so hard that they’d get stuck in the back of his head.

With a huff, he deposited a decent amount of the toothpaste onto his toothbrush and ran water over it before putting it into his mouth. You walked into the bathroom then, your eyes half open as you made your way over to the toilet to pee. Ah, romance at its finest.

“Dude,” Yoongi said, spitting into the sink after he was finished brushing, “why don’t you put the cap back onto the tube of toothpaste?”

You scowled, thinking that he should know damn well you didn’t like to be spoken to before you’d had your caffeine.

“I’ll do that when you start rinsing the sink out and quit leaving your nasty spit in it!”

“My nasty spit?” he scoffed, “I’m sorry who was the one begging me to, and I quote, spit in your mouth, two days ago?”

“Bite me, Min Yoongi.”

You flushed the toilet and bumped his hip with your own to push him out of the way, rubbing soap onto your hands and washing them. It was going to be a long day.

By noon, you were ready to fully divorce him and kick him out of the house.

“Yoongi!” You yelled, standing by the laundry basket in your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest.

His feet carried him swiftly up the stairs as he feared something was wrong, stopping abruptly in his tracks when he saw the way you were staring daggers through him.

“Jesus,” he sighed, “what did I do now?”

You pointed harshly at the pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper, causing the taller man to internally groan at the lecture he knew was coming.

“Two more inches and the clothes would be in the basket. What is so hard about that? Do you live to piss me off? Is that what it is?” You scolded, barely taking a breath between your sentences.

“Mhm,” he nodded, “my only goal in life.”

You were fuming. How could he be such an ass? Throwing your hands up, you moved past him and out of the bedroom.

“Pick them up, or we’re getting a divorce.”

He chuckled, “Whatever you say.”

“Ever heard the term ‘happy wife, happy life?’”

He took short strides forward over to the clothes he’d previously discarded and picked them up, “Nope.”

“Well then,” you watched as he tossed the clothes into their rightful place of the laundry hamper, “I suggest you get familiar with it.”

By the time dinner was over, you’d made promises to take him to divorce court the very next day. He’d placed a single dirty spoon into a sink empty of dishes, and you suddenly understood why so many wives offed their husbands.

May 9th, 2020. 11:05am.

You were late— so fucking late, and you prayed that your mother wouldn’t completely disown you. The two of you’d made plans to meet up for breakfast at 10:30, but you’d just now gotten into the shower. She would never let you live this down. You were always late for everything though, so really, what did she expect?

Washing your hair would’ve taken up too much time, so you’d opted for a quick, ten minute shower and decided that a messy bun would do for the day. You were in the middle of washing your face when you heard the glass door of the shower rattle, alerting you to your husbands newfound presence.

“Morning.” His arms wrapped tightly around your waist from behind, and he began to press light kisses to the side of your neck.

You smiled at the feeling, tilting your head to the side to give him a bit more access.

“Good morning.” You rinsed off your face wash, carefully avoiding your hair and trying your hardest not to get it wet.

Yoongi’s hands found your hips as he pressed his half hardened length against your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling.

“Yoongs, I have to go soon. No funny business. I’m already late.” You tried to protest, but the feeling of his hand traveling down to spread your legs made you whine.

“So? You’re always late. Let me give you a good reason to be, at least.”

His teeth nibbled on your earlobe, all the while his pointer and middle finger had begun to circle over your clit.

Your head dropped back into the crook of his neck at the feeling, and you groaned.

“Fine, fine. But no foreplay, as much as it pains me to say that. Make me cum, then I gotta go.”

“Damn,” he laughed, “you really know how to seduce a guy, you know that?”

“Shut up.” You couldn’t help but to giggle in response, your lips finding his for just a quick second before he had you bent over in front of him.

“If your mom asks, just tell her we were practicing to give her grandchildren.”

The loud smack of his hand coming down against the bare skin of your ass echoed in the room, and you groaned— both because of the stinging sensation his hand caused, and because of his words. Leave it to your husband to say stupid shit like that before he was about to rail you.

Your breakfast date with your mom turned into brunch, and a very uncomfortable one at that. Yoongi had been ruthless with spanking you, and you were now sporting sore spots and welts that made it difficult to sit.

Even though your mom kept asking why you couldn’t seem to sit still and was constantly scolding you for being late, you decided that it was so fucking worth it.

May 20th, 2020. 8:45pm.

It wasn’t even nine and you and Yoongi were already in bed. He was scrolling on his phone beside of you, and you were watching makeup tutorials on the television hung in front of your bed.

You yawned, shifting your attention to your husband and knocking his phone out of his hand, just for the hell of it.

“What the fuck was that for?!” He sounded surprised, and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, gently kicking his leg with your foot.

“Oh, so that’s the game we’re playing now?” He stared over at you, his lips curving into a wry smirk.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby doll.”

He was on top of you in an instant, straddling your legs as he tickled you. You erupted into an immediate series of giggles, your body squirming underneath him.

“Yoongi!” You squealed, attempting to push his hands away, but it was no use— he had you pinned and completely at his mercy.

“Bet you regret annoying me now, huh?” He asked, his own laughter bellowing out.

“Yes! Yes! Okay, okay! You can stop!” You were nearly out of breath from how hard you were laughing, and Yoongi was sure you’d never looked more stunning.

Your hair was wet from the shower you’d just taken, no makeup on, and you were wearing that damn tattered, worn out T-shirt that you loved so much. You were the very definition of beauty to him, the sight of your toothy smile and sound of your loud laughter only making that fact more and more evident to him.

His tickle assault on your body ceased, and the two of you attempted to catch your breath.

“I’m in love with you, you know that?” Yoongi’s position had changed, and he was now hovering over you and pressing his lips to your jawline.

“I know. And I love you.” You reveled in the feeling, enjoying the familiar comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

“Let me show you how much.”

Before you could protest (not that you actually would), he was making his way down south. He’d bunched your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. He was practically salivating at the sight of your bare chest. You’d been married for so long, and he’d seen you naked more times than he could count, and the sight of your body still amazed him every time.

He pulled a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Your fingers carded into his hair, your back arching up and off of the mattress as you pressed into him.

“Yoongs,” you sighed, marveling in the feeling of him palming your other tit with his hand.

He always took his time when it came to your chest, and he always made sure they were bruised and reddened by the time he was done with them. And you had zero complaints with that fact.

After he’d abused your pebbled buds to his satisfaction, he moved to leave a line of wet kisses down your stomach.

When his lips came into contact with cotton fabric just above your belly button, he pulled back with a confused expression adorning his features.

“Granny panties? Really?” He chuckled, pulling at the hem of them and letting it snap against your skin.

You yelped, batting his hand away.

“Shut up, they’re comfortable.”

“I never thought granny panties could look so sexy.” He wiggled his brows, and you rolled your eyes.

“Gotta say, though,” he said, pulling them down your legs, “I think they’d look sexier on the floor.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You laughed, kicking your underwear off of your feet.

“Maybe,” he grinned, his lips quickly finding their way to the insides of your thighs, “but you love me.”

“More than you could ever know, Yoongs,” you smiled, suddenly very aware that the most amazing man in the world was yours, and yours alone, “‘more than you could ever know.”

© kookiesjoonies 2020.

*do NOT reupload/repost on any site, translate without my permission, or claim as your own.

[writesowhatnext]

sugar and spice and everything nice // remus lupin

Summary: reader has a meetcute with Remus in quite possibly his favourite place on Earth

Request: would you mind writing the reader in honeydukes bumping into remus lupin and bonding over their love for chocolate? thank u 💖💖💖

A/N: how many different ways can I spell chcolate chcoclate chocolate wrong :) also I treasure the ceoncept but am unsure about execution

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: none I was good

In life, you had priorities. Sure, there were things that were important to you; like world peace and the like, but priority numero uno was one thing and one thing only. Chocolate. Whilst it wasn’t the best of things to be addicted to, at least it wasn’t hurting anybody; at least you weren’t addicted to murder or something, right? That’s what you were telling yourself, anyways, as you stood in front of Honeyduke’s chocolate shelves for the third time that month. The owner, Mr Flume, or Ambrosius as he insisted you call him, was a particular fan of yours given the fact that you almost bought out the shop every time you came. You spent hours in there at once, trying different things and becoming the connoisseur of chocolate you were today; you often got so engrossed in the whole thing that you barely paid any attention to what was going on around you. That, arguably, was a problem.

As you stepped backwards, surveying the enormous selection of treats, you didn’t notice a tall boy with a handful of coins clinking in his palm next to you. You only noticed him, actually, when you side-stepped into his body with a hefty amount of force, knocking his hand and sending his money flying, the metal rattling onto the floor.

“Oh, Merlin!” you huffed, instantly reaching down to help him retrieve it, only to have your forehead collide with his with a resounding thud. You both tipped backwards on your crouching heels, rubbing your heads as you sat on the floor of the almost deserted sweetshop.

“Pretty sure I could’ve handled that one better,” you said sheepishly, finally looking at the boy you’d just turned into a human piñata. Your breathing hitched when you realised who it was, catching in your throat as you recognised those warm green eyes and handsome features. You didn’t know Remus Lupin personally, but you had often ranted to your friends about how much you wished you did, not to mention how cute he was from afar.

“I think I almost definitely could’ve too, don’t worry,” he said, frowning with a nervous laugh that made butterflies swarm in your stomach. You’d imagined his voice a fair few times, but never had it lived up to the real thing.

You stood up and blew air from your cheeks sharply. With an amused smile, you offered him a hand, your grin widening as his eyes darted between your face and your outstretched palm. His hand gripped yours as you helped him to his feet, both of you awkwardly pulling away when you realised how long you’d been touching for. He wiped his palm on his trousers, hoping you didn’t notice.

“Sorry,” you said, bending down and scraping together the change on the floor as he loomed over you, shifting his weight from side to side. He watched you pick up the warm coins that had been sitting in his palm for the last ten minutes and hoped, with a fair amount of paranoia, that you wouldn’t discover how clammy his hands were. “I was very, very busy perusing the chocolate shelves, you see.”

You smiled as you rose to your feet, sliding the money into his palm, biting your lip at the contact, completely unaware of his eyes following you.

“A very understandable excuse,” he said gently, eager to see your smile again. “I’m quite the fan myself, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you turned to face the shelves conspiratorially, your shoulder almost touching Remus’. “What’s your poison?”

The corner of his lips curved upwards at your words, fairly amused at your joke, but more so that you didn’t really know how right you were.

“I like the salted caramel ones… and the strawberry… the white chocolate, milk, dark…” he listed, his frown deepening the further along he went. His face flushed; a pretty pink blush under the silvery-white scars. Your mouth twisted to contain a chuckle at how cute he looked.

“A man of good taste,” you hummed, placing a finger on your chin. He smiled at your pensive expression as you elbowed him lightly, joshing around. He’d been best friends with the Marauders for years, but never before had he felt so in on a joke. “I like the Howling Moon bars, myself.”

He made a face, scrunching his nose up like a child refusing their broccoli. “I don’t like wolves much.”

“I don’t know,” you mused, crossing your arms and rolling your head to face him. “I think they’re kind of cool.”

He stared at you for a moment, fully aware that he was reading way too far into what, to you, was most likely just a throwaway comment to a stranger in a sweetshop. He couldn’t deny, though, the pull he had towards you; he had this strange feeling that it wasn’t luck that you’d quite literally bumped into each other. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

“I’m Remus,” he said, shooting you a handsome half-smile that almost had your knees buckling.

“I know,” you nodded casually before the weight of your words hit you and you turned to his confused expression with a horror. “I did not mean that.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Well,” you said, scowling. “I did, but I didn’t intend for it to be so creepy-“

“Wasn’t creepy at all,” he chuckled, immediately making you smile in relief. “Well,” he paused, tilting his head to the side. “Perhaps a little.”

With a scoff, you threw your head back and laughed, not quite noticing his shyly prideful smile in response.

“I’m Y/N,” you said eventually, pursing your lips. “And I promise I’m not a stalker.”

“I think the jury’s still out on that one.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I pay attention to you.”

As soon as the words tumbled out of your mouth, you cursed yourself for even having the gall to be born. Honestly, who just let you walk around, saying this and doing that? Remus’ brain short-circuited and for what must’ve been a full minute, you stood in silence as he tried to think of how Sirius would reply; he was always good at flirting and Remus never really cared to learn until he saw you.

“More attention than to where you’re going, I hope,” he rushed, hoping his jab came out in the light-hearted, teasing way he intended. Your shocked expression had him rethinking it until the corners of your mouth curled up and you barked a laugh.

“Very witty, Mr Lupin, very witty indeed.”

Though he’d never admit it, he was quietly smug about the fact that he’d been the one to put such a smile on your gorgeous features.

“So,” you said, grinning at him, pleased with your interaction so far. “The jury’s still out on whether I’m a stalker or not, but is it still out on which chocolate you’re going to get?”

He stared at your comfortable grin, his heart leaping in his chest as he took it in, unable to deny its infectiousness.

“Pick for me,” he insisted, eyes crinkling around the edges as he played with the coins in his hand. “You seem like an expert.”

“That’s a brave choice,” you smirked, slightly chuffed. “You sure?”

“I’d say my sweet tooth is in safe hands.”

“Alright, then,” you said, shrugging. “But only if you’ll do the same.”

He nodded, a borderline embarrassing level of excitement building up in his stomach. “Sounds fair.”

And so, for a few minutes, in perfectly comfortable silence, you stood there, choosing chocolate. Remus even thought that he’d died and gone to Heaven. As he glanced at you, his own chocolate selection in his hand, he could barely concentrate on anything but your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. He watched you reach multiple times for different bars before changing your mind and he found himself rather amused at how seriously you were taking the whole thing.

“Okay then,” you said, stepping back from the wall of chocolate, reluctantly tearing your eyes away to see Remus staring at you, smiling with a fond look in his eyes. Your face fell. “I took too long, didn’t I?”

He shook his head, smiling. “It’s an important decision.”

You tilted your head to the side, shooting him a look. “That’s a very nice way of saying I took too long.”

He barely had time to reply, that is if he’d wanted to drag his thoughts away from how easy it was to talk to you.

“Oh!” you said, suddenly remembering that he’d picked a few bars for you. You stared at them greedily as he handed them over, very much aware of your fingertips brushing. “This one,” you said, lifting up one bar. “Is my favourite chocolate ever. This, I was debating picking for myself before I bulldozed you earlier. And this, well this I’ve never even seen before but I’m excited to-“

“Oi, Remus,” A boy shouted from the doorway of the shop, drawing your attention. You watched with barely contained amusement as a dry look overtook Remus’ features and he he shot you an apologetic glance before turning around.

“I’ll just be a minute,” he insisted to a boy you now recognised as Sirius Black, quite the character at Hogwarts. He looked between the you and Remus with growing mischief, an amused grin growing lazily on his face.

“Take all the time you need!” he yelled, before shooting you a wink and shutting the door, leaving you with Remus in a suddenly very silent shop.

“He seems nice,” you whispered, noticing his exasperation. Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“He’s a pillock.”

You laughed at his defeated expression, pleased to see him eventually mirror your smile.

“He seems to think there’s something going on here,” you drawled, hoping he would take a hint. By the way his face lit up even further, you figured he had.

“Well there will be if you don’t give me my chocolates,” he jested lightly, biting his lip as you pushed his shoulder, wishing more than anything that he could spend the whole day, with you, in Honeydukes.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator​

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness​

@xinyourdreamsx​

@brainlesspasta​

@hariosborn​

@staringmoony​

@rexorangecouny​

@alittletoomanyobsessions​

@peachesandpinks​

[stonesparrow]

Bird’s Writing Ideas

Summaries of some of the dcst AUs and other fanfic concepts I’m “working on,” or at least just have a google doc going for. Feel free to send me an ask if you want to hear more about any of them :P

No Stone Wars AU

Terrible name, yes, so sometimes I call this the “Delayed Lions AU.” I am not good at titling things. It’s an AU where Yuzuriha was successfully brought back to camp and revived instead of Tsukasa, and then the lions show up. Working together though, our heroes do manage to scare the lions away for the time being, and Tsukasa doesn’t end up getting revived until way later. Essentially it’s an excuse for me to write a civilization-building story where Senku carries out his plans as he intended before the whole Stone Wars shenanigans happened. Senku does still find Ishigami Village (he has to go to Hakone eventually to collect sulfur) but he’s not nearly as concerned about, ya know, getting murdered. Could be really boring for some people, but like I’ve said I LOVE the civilization building parts of DCST and this is my jam. I did way too much math for this one.

Fem! Senku AU

Exactly what it says on the tin. Tentatively titled “Ishigami Senku: Girl Genius.” I’ve left it ambiguous so far whether Senku is cis or trans, but either way this one is great for exploring how Senku’s decisions and character (and those around her) might be affected by Senku being a girl. For instance, this Senku is more used to being underestimated and patronized than canon Senku and has a slight compulsion to wanting to prove herself, which is in conflict with her desire to surge ahead without caring about what others think of her. Her hair also obeys gravity a little more and she wears it in a ponytail, and she’s a little closer to Yuzuriha than in canon (though Taiju is still her oldest and best friend). I’ve had a few problems with hashing out the plot for this one since I don’t want it to perfectly match canon but I also want it to keep some key story nodes, and the butterfly effect makes it tend to veer wildly off into various directions.

Mermaids AU(s)

I have like, three of these because I couldn’t decide how to go about it and just wanted to write something with mermaids. I like fantasy.

 Senku and Taiju are young mermen living in an underwater kingdom, and Senku’s fascinated with the above world, spending his days studying humans and their inventions and trying to come up with something that could allow him to go on land. But then one day something turns the whole Sea Kingdom into stone statues, and it’s up to Senku to venture out into the human world in search of a cure. Lower on my interest scale because most of the story wouldn’t take place among the mermaids.

Inspired by ao3 user Luki’s story Flock where soon after revival petrified humans sprout wings. In this case though, Senku realizes that he’s somehow becoming partially aquatic, only instead of being full on mermanified he ends up more like...mermaids in the Sims 3? Where he has to stay constantly hydrated to survive and his legs turn into a tail when submerged in water. I like this one a lot, actually.

H2O: Just Add Water AU. There was this Australian tv show I used to watch at my friend’s house when we were like...seven, about these three girls who after a strange encounter realized that ten seconds after coming in contact with water, they would turn into mermaids. I’ve tweaked that concept a lot but basically this AU is Senku, Taiju, and Yuzuriha taking the place of the three main characters, and also they’re in Japan instead of Australia, for obvious reasons. 

A Single Act of Kindness

AU where 12 year old Tsukasa is rescued from the old man on the beach by another, friendlier old man, one with grey hair with dark tips and red eyes. That’s it, that’s the whole concept. Probably gonna be a oneshot.

Future/Next Gen

Not an AU, but basically a bunch of (very theoretical and self indulgent) ideas I have about the Kingdom of Science post defeating Why-man. All of them stem from a concept I had where Senku finds a protege in Taiju and Yuzuriha’s third oldest child, a girl named Yurika (which is a legitimate girls’ name but Senku was the one who named her and meant it to sound like Eureka! on purpose, as if saying he wished for her to have a life full of discovery. He’ll deny thinking that much about it though). Most of the stories I have in this concept are about Yurika’s teen years, with Senku in his forties.

Suika in Wonderland

Just a funny idea I had where Suika falls asleep to Ukyo telling her an “old British children’s story,” one summer afternoon and finds herself in a strange world where a lot of the bizarre individuals she meets look oddly like some of her friends.

ATLA AU

Recently I did a little speculative thing for this in this post, and I liked it enough to write it down into a more fully fleshed out concept. Story 1 is going to be about Ryusui growing up in the Northern Water Tribe and him meeting the Gaang when they arrive at the end of Book 1, while Story 2 is going to be about Senku and his friends uncovering the Dai Li conspiracy in Ba Sing Se and teaming up with the Gang when they arrive in Book 2. Story 3...well I’d like to do something regarding the Fire Nation characters, so maybe something to do with Amaryllis.

[summerofpinecestcontest]

Racing Hearts

Third place

by @formal-fauxpines

Monster Falls AU. Mabel has changed from her original Mermaid form to that of a Unicorn, and Dipper has come upon a greater struggle with his feelings for her.

The sounds of nature did wonders for the nerves. Water moved along it’s natural path, the sounds cutting through a mental fog as it did the soil it moved over. Birds chirping in the distance, accompanied by the sounds of wind blowing through the trees, a symphony to ease an aching heart. Dipper nestled himself in this spot whenever he was facing some kind of trouble in his life. Then again he found he needed to come to this place more and more as of late.

As a creature that was half deer, perhaps it was in his nature to seek the comforts of such a setting. The essence of the forest and wilderness permeated his soul. Ever since he came to this small town of Gravity Falls five years ago he felt that it was more natural for him to be here. Especially since he got to spend time with his favorite person in the world, hiis sister Mabel. Although as of late, this was the same person that was making his problems stand out more. He couldn’t blame her though, especially when the problem was with him.

A few years ago, Dipper began to develop feelings for Mabel. He had always been close to her, they were twins, how could they not be? But he was especially close to her as he provided her much more help than any brother normally would. In this world full of different monsters and creatures, it wasn’t uncommon that different individuals, even related, would be born vastly different. In this case, Dipper having the characteristics of a deer, his sister was born a mermaid. Like any mermaid, she was elegant, beautiful, and enamored anyone who gazed upon her. It was unfortunate that he was one of them.

With her being a mermaid though she couldn’t get around as easily. Dipper naturally took up the mantle of being something of a personal chauffeur to her. He carried her around in a special tank that allowed her enough water to stay comfortable in, yet light enough for him to pull it. This way she didn’t miss out on anything. He didn’t mind taking her around, since he cared for her no matter what. Plus she would always thank him sincerely, and every once in a while he would receive a small kiss for his efforts. When they were younger it was a simple act, yet as they grew, more and more would it be an action that would cause his heart to flutter and his stomach to knot up. He knew he could never act upon these feelings but he appreciated the fact that he at least got that from her.

However, that stopped about a year ago when she decided she needed a change. After their long lost Great Uncle Ford returned to them that first year in Gravity Falls, he continued his research into more and more fantastical parts of the world they lived in. One of those was a spell that allowed monsters to change what kind of creature they were. Mabel knew exactly what kind of creature she wanted to be.

In their first year in Gravity Falls, Mabel had a run in with some unsavory purebred Unicorns. Intending to retrieve a bit of hair for protection against the likes of a certain dream demon, Mabel found their kind were rather difficult to handle. For a few years after the fascination Mabel had with them dwindled and was replaced with scorn. Much like her disdain for Pacifica, however, she found herself not holding her grudge for too long. Not that she was fully over what happened to her, but she still had some admiration for the elegance and beauty that they held. Moreso however, she wanted to prove that she wouldn’t fall into being like the other unicorns.

It was a simple ritual, but it took a day to complete. She needed a bit of the DNA for the creature that she wanted to transform into and the crystal that Ford found could allow them to make the change. She needed to be on her own as any other creatures may negate the transformation and result in her staying in her original form. Dipper gave her a hug before she began her metamorphosis and asked her if this was really what she wanted. She simply replied that it was.

For a full day Dipper was worried how Mabel was doing on her own. If everything was going as it needed to. If she needed anything, if she was having second thoughts, if it caused any issues down the line. He had to put on a brave face though. However, Ford could see through his guise and reassured him that she was going to be fine. He told him all about how he had seen the transformation take place before and how it was harmless to the user. For the rest of the day Ford helped put his mind at ease regailing him with all the stories he had regarding this process and all that came from it. It put Dipper’s mind at ease, yet what he couldn’t admit was how worried he was about how it would affect their relationship.

Ford must have been exposed to some kind of psychic energy as he delved into that as well.

“I imagined that you are worried about how this will affect how you two interact as well, right?”

Dipper was taken aback by this sudden expression of concern. Yet, he was right. That was a big part of his concerns. Dipper just sat there, and kept sipping at his drink. Ford continued on.

“I thought that would come up. I have seen that a few times in my studies of this phenomenon. Most of the time the creature doing the transformation is doing it for someone else. Other times when they do, they have a loved one worried about how it will change their lives together. Don’t worry about that though. I have seen you both through the years and not even something like this will drive you apart.”

Ford patted Dipper on the back comforting him. These words reassured him a little, yet Dipper was never one to completely let go of his worries. After enough time passed it was time for them to go to bed. It was a restless night for Dipper of course. He hoped to occupy his mind with books and making edits to his journal but he couldn’t help but stay up that night concerned.

The next day couldn’t have come any slower. He had breakfast with his Grunkles, and proceeded to help set up some new furnishings in the attic to accommodate Mabel’s new form. No longer would Mabel need the kiddy pool, tarps, and water tank that kept her properly hydrated on land. Dipper especially felt a ping in his heart with letting go of the cart he used to take her around town. What use would he be to her now? Would she want to even hang out as much anymore? These were the things he would have to wait and see when they happened.

With the last hour upon them, the Pines plus Soos, Wendy, Candy and Grenda prepared a small party to welcome Mabel back. Candy and Grenda talked about all the fun plans they had for when Mabel could walk around on her own. Dipper was happy that Mabel had such good friends to be by her side.

Another twinge of pain ran through him again.

What about him? He wasn’t planning anything big with her post transformation. He was her twin and supposed best friend. Where were his plans for her?

At that moment, a clawed paw rested on his shoulder. The brownish-red fur caught his eye as he turned his head up to see Wendy’s face looking down at him. For her cool demeanor, she always seemed to know what was getting at him and relaxed him. That is except for Mabel.

The time finally came. Everyone was on edge to see Mabel’s new form. As the door opened, the unmistakable sound of hooves on the wooden floors resonated throughout the room. She emerged through the doorway gracefully. Her coat shined with a silvery white that glimmered in the light. Her horn gave off a faint golden glow that shined brilliantly. Instead of wearing her usual water friendly attire, she now had on a sweater she had kept a hold of for times when she was going to be dry. It was more something she had fascination with and hoped to wear regularly. Now she could.

Everyone clamored at how beautiful she was. Candy and Grenda were very excited to see her new form and talked about how cute and beautiful she was. Wendy had cooly complimented Mabel in her usual and cool way. Grunkle Stan and Ford both were talking about how lovely she was and how the procedure went. Amongst the chatter, Dipper stood there as he gazed upon her. She was everything that was being said about her by their friends. Dipper couldn't find the words to express how he felt. Everyone had pretty much said what he could have said. However, one thing they didn’t say that he was longing to say was how beautiful she was, and that no alteration to her could change that beauty she had inside her. The beauty she had that he saw everyday and made him fall in love with her.

Dipper held back though and played the role as a “normal” supportive brother he should have been. He complimented her and gave her support. When she stumbled when walking he was the first to put a hand out to help her up and make sure she was okay. Being a quadruped as well he made sure to take the time and teach her how to walk on all fours. He spent so much time making sure she was ready to take things on her own. She was a remarkably fast learned when it came to learning how to do things physically, a big part of her being so hands on with so many activities.

Soon she was able to walk around on her own without any help at all. Dipper had never been more proud of her. She was able to go wherever she wanted now. However that did give a twinge of sadness in him as that meant that the time they were spending together was now over. Dipper's doing right by his sister ended up with him feeling alone once more as he watched her go and live her life without need of his help or assistance. Mabel was able to go anywhere she wanted to. Before if she wanted to go to the mall or anywhere Dipper would take her. Now he didn’t need to, and that left a void inside him.

Dipper tried desperately to fill that void and make himself feel whole again, but he wasn’t able to do it. Writing in his journal and finding new discoveries in the town provided a temporary distraction. However what he found was that being deep in the woods provided him the greatest peace from his thoughts. He let the sounds and essence of the woods settle his mind and permeate his soul, quelling the storm of emotions inside. The birds chirped, the wind rustled the trees, and all was right with the world.

However a distinct sound cut through the natural sounds. The sound of hooves trotting across the forest floor, stepping on twigs and debris as she made her way over to Dipper. His ears twitched as he picked up on the noise, turning his head in the direction of the sound and opening his eyes. There she was, the beautiful and majestic as always, standing before him so that he may admire her. If this was a trap then he would have been done for.

"Hey Bro-bro," Mabel said in her usually cheerful disposition.

“Hey Mabel,” he said with a smile on his face as he struggled to maintain his feelings. “What brings you out here?”

“I was looking for you silly.”

“Me? I mean, didn’t you want to hang out with Candy and Grenda today?”

“I was, but I think it's been a while since I hung out with ya. I miss you Dip-dop.”

Those words hit him hard as he had wondered if she was actually missing him this whole time. He wanted to tell her so many times before, but he didn’t want to guilt her and ruin her freedom and good time.

“It has been a bit, it feels like hasn’t it? I thought you would be tired of me after all the years of having me carry you around honestly.”

“Get tired of hanging out with my Bro-bro? Never! In fact I think it's been weird to not hang out with you for this long actually.”

Dipper wanted to go up and hug her after she made such a statement. It really had been too long. Instead, he stood up and stretched after having sat for so long.

“So what do you want to do?”

“Well… I was thinking maybe having a race.”

“A race?”

“Yeah,” Mabel said excitedly. “I think I have gotten used to these legs enough that I can give ya a run for your money.”

“Oh you want to bet?” Dipper asked Mabel with a sense of confidence. “I know this forest pretty well. You really think you can beat me?”

“Only one way to find out,” Mabel said with a more smug sense of confidence.

“Well what does the winner get?”

“We’ll work the details out later. But the first one to make it to the waterfall is the winner.”

“Wait, Mabel… but.”

“ONYOURMARKSGETSETGO!”

With the quick statement of their start Mabel was off in a fast gallop towards the falls. Dipper was quick to react however as he set off after her. He was used to Mabel pulling a few tricks in their competitions but she seemed to be intent on proving herself and winning this race. For what he couldn't say since they never established a prize, either way it should have been a fun run

Dipper ran as fast as he could to catch up with Mabel as she kept going through the woods. He had to admit how impressed he was at how agile and graceful she was running through the forest. From behind he saw how she would duck and dodge the branches and how she managed with the forest's terrain. He knew these woods well and understood how difficult it could be to navigate for some.

Luckily for him he was well versed in the forest terrain as he made it over and around logs and branches to eventually catch up with Mabel. Trying to stay focused on the path ahead, he did throw caution to the wind to check to make sure she was okay. He could see she was more than okay as the wind flowed through her hair and the sun shined off her unicorn body. Even though she was concentrating on the race, she had the widest grin on her face.

Dipper looked back ahead of him as he narrowly missed a branch that was about to hit his face. He was lucky his reflexes were so sharp from the years spent out there. He decided to stay focused and make it there as fast as he could. At first Dipper thought about throwing the race to give Mabel confidence in herself. But he knew better as seeing her now she deserved a fair race.

After fifteen minutes of running, Dipper could see the falls in sight. The sound of the roaring and rushing water in the distance graced his ears. He could smell the lake as he breathed heavily from having run so hard and so long. The terrain became less dense as it gave way to more grasses and shrubs instead of logs and trees. Giving it one last push Dipper hit the sands of the beach and the momentum took him into the water.

“YEAH!” Dipper shouted confidently as he turned around to see Mabel hit the water right after him.

“That.... was a… good one…” Mabel said between breaths.

“I’ll say,” Dipper said as he left the water to go to the shore. Mabel followed right behind.

After a moment for both of them to catch their break they both began to congratulate one another.

“Wow Mabel, you were so good out there.”

“Me? You were the one who was zipping around those woods like it was  strolling through the park.”

“Well I do spend a lot of time here. And you seem to have it really down yourself managing a race.”

“What can I say? I had a good teacher.”

Dipper blushed at the statement as she always appreciated him and what he did for her.

“Well,” he asked. “What's the prize?”

“Well… I think the winner of this race deserves a special prize.”

Mabel walked up to Dipper slowly, with a sly grin on her face and a caring and half lidded gaze. Dipper wasn’t sure if it was his heart was beating hard from the race or if it was what Mabel was doing, but it nearly stopped when Mabel got close and personal with her twin brother and laid a kiss upon his lips.

The moment her lips pressed into his, the whole world faded away. All that he could sense was Mabel kissing him gently. Her lips were warm and soft like pillows, the taste of strawberries was detected from her lip gloss, the smell of her shampoo filled his nose, and the gentle hums of pleasure she gave practically drowned out the noise of the roaring falls. Everything about her filled his world as if she was all that mattered. To Dipper though, she really was all that mattered.

When the kiss broke Mabel took a step back and looked Dipper in the eyes. She was looking for any sign that he was okay with what happened. Mabel got her answer with a kiss from him, except this time with more passion as he wrapped his arms around her. She did the same, grasping at his shoulders tightly. Their kiss lasted another minute before breaking again.

Dipper didn’t know what to say. For as brilliant of a mind he had he was never good with his emotions and how to express them outright. All he could do was hold her hand and rub his thumb across her fingers.

“What do you think of that as a prize?” Mabel asked.

“I really liked it….but, how did you know?”

“Well, it turned out that the whole seeing into other people’s hearts wasn’t a complete lie. I could sense it a little more after I changed. But you know what Bro-bro. You weren’t the only one with a weird crush.”

“Wait, what?” Dipper asked in surprise.

“What can I say? I had the best brother a mermaid could ever ask for with how you took care of me. I always thought we could be that way forever but it didn’t seem fair to you waiting on me hand and fin. So I wanted to become this, so I could let you be who you wanted to be. But after a while I realized I didn't want to be without you, and I can see now that you feel the same.”

“Mabel… I… I love you.”

It was all Dipper could think of saying.

“I love you too Dipper.”

And it was just the right words for him to say.

The two kneeled down in the sand as they rested their tired bodies after so much happened to them in such a short amount of time. They cuddled, held hands and continued to kiss for some time. It was a moment they wanted to have lasted forever and hoped would happen more often than not.

“So Dip-dop?” Mabel asked, breaking the silence. “How about another race back home? This time the winner gets to decide what to do?”

Dipper smiled as a warmth filled his heart as he gazed upon the sister that he loved so dearly.

[the-gay-prometheus]

Frankenstein AU Segment - “A Time to Mourn” Part 1

Uh- hi - I couldn’t figure out a better title for this one so. We’re stuck with this for now until I think of something better.

Anyways.

This one takes place quite a while after the segment called 'Try.' There's a bit of context missing because of this but... Hopefully it's not too confusing.

A bit of background on this. I knew for a while that I wanted to introduce Ernest and Elizabeth into the main story by having Victor, Henry, and Agape visit William’s grave and be found entirely by accident, but I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to make that happen. And then, in my brain’s infinite wisdom, I came up with.... whatever the hell this is.

Fun fact - part of the writing process for this legitimately had me physically sobbing. Which is kind of sad considering... this isn’t even close to the most painful part of the AU as a whole. Point is though, it took me way longer to write because how in the world do you put into words something that there are no words to describe? I know for sure I still wasn’t able to do it justice despite spending weeks thinking it over and writing and rewriting it, but I think I got it as close as I could possibly get.

Now on to the somewhat disappointing part: this segment is technically going to be posted in two parts. I didn’t intend for it to end up being another two-parter, but what ended up happening was that I suddenly realized I had five pages of content written for it already despite still having more to write and, if I had ended up introducing Ernest the way I originally wanted to, that would have taken up another page or two at least. That would have ended up being a nine to ten page segment - which is waaaay too long if you ask me. This does unfortunately mean that Ernest’s true introduction is going to be delayed, but....

There is a bright side to this, though! I have a new idea for the full introduction of Ernest, and this means that Ernest will actually be getting a segment that is primarily focused on himself way sooner than I originally anticipated. I think he deserves as much, to be honest. 

...All of that out of the way, on to the story.

A few warnings for this one: Mentions of blood, death of a child, and breaking bones (if you catch any I missed, please let me know asap!)

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are highly appreciated!

It was before the sun rose that Victor awoke, somehow feeling entirely alert despite having only slept a few hours. He sat up in bed, staring at the wall in silence as he prepared himself for the day and the journey ahead. Henry stirred beside him, and though Victor hushed him quietly, his hazel eyes shuttered open. Still half asleep, he yawned and wriggled slightly, pulling the blanket over himself more before slowly starting to half sit upright. “Mm… it’s not already time for you to leave yet, is it?” he grumbled, voice raspy from sleep.

“If I want to make this as quick a trip as possible, yes,” Victor sighed in return, reaching over and taking Henry’s hand.

“And you promise you’ll be back in two days at most?”

“I promise,” Victor answered quietly, lifting his hand and gingerly kissing the back of it. Henry smiled slightly, shifting his grip and returning the kiss with one of his own on the back of Victor’s hand. Victor smiled back, but the expression soon faded into a more solemn one. “Do you promise you’ll keep him here until I come back?” Henry nodded.

“I promise. We’ll… probably go climbing or something,” he replied, sitting more upright and leaning his head on Victor’s shoulder. Victor rested his head against Henry’s, staring ahead once again.

“You should probably talk to him today, while you’re at it,” he suggested. Henry glanced up at him.

“Only if he brings it up. I don’t think he’d take it well if I was the one to bring it up.” Victor was silent, but nodded after a moment. With great effort, he pried himself away from Henry and slipped out of bed to prepare himself for the journey ahead. As he dressed himself, Henry stretched and pulled himself out of bed, walking over and wrapping his arms around Victor from behind once he was fully dressed in his traveling clothes. Victor leaned back into him as Henry placed his chin on his shoulder, raising one hand and placing his palm on Henry’s cheek. “I wish I could come with you,” Henry murmured quietly.

“I know,” Victor replied, “but someone needs to stay and make sure Agape doesn’t leave.” He sighed softly. “In a perfect world you could come with me and I could trust he wouldn’t follow but… we both know him. He’d follow even if he promised not to.” Henry nodded.

“You’re right. But I’ll still miss you.” Victor smiled, pulling back and turning to face him. He stood on his toes and rested his arms on Henry’s shoulders before kissing him softly, Henry reciprocating as he wrapped his arms back around him.

“I know,” Victor answered as he pulled back again. “I’ll miss you too.” Despite Henry’s reluctance to let him go, Victor moved to grab his black coat from the hook by the bedroom door.

“Please take care of yourself while you’re gone,” Henry requested, walking over and helping him to put the coat on. Victor nodded, popping the collar up.

“I will, as best as I’m able.” Just as he opened the door, Henry took hold of his arm and pulled him in for one last kiss, which Victor certainly didn’t protest to. After a moment, he gently tapped Henry’s shoulder, and Henry begrudgingly broke away, a sort of pouting expression in his eyes that made Victor smile. He walked out of the room, silently opening the front door and stepping outside. Henry followed him to the door, standing in the doorway as Victor took a moment to look up at the starry morning sky, admiring how the black of night had begun to lighten around the horizon with the coming sunrise.

“Victor?” Henry called as he watched his husband begin to make his way toward the trail that would lead down the mountain. Victor paused and turned.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” Victor smiled.

“I love you too. I’ll be back before you know it.” With that, he turned again, and disappeared into the trees.

---

“Agape?” Henry called out, worry in his voice as he trudged through the forest, frantically searching in every direction. “Agape?!” After Victor left, he had crawled back into bed and - despite intending to only sleep until just after the sun fully rose, he had managed to sleep in until noon. When he awoke, he realized that his son was nowhere to be found. Though he tried to keep calm, he was terrified. After all, he promised Victor that he wouldn’t let him leave, but now he couldn’t even find him. He searched each of Agape’s usual favorite thinking spots - the pool in the mossy clearing, the circle of stones that looked like they had been intentionally placed in the middle of a stand of silver fir, the grove of collapsed larches from some long-past avalanche, the massive waterfall that dropped from the edge of a cliff and left the forest around it coated in mist - he was still nowhere to be found. The final place he could think to check was the alpine meadow on the other end of the forest, and as he passed through the final tangle of branches, he breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the one he was looking for. Agape stood very still, his long black hair and dark cloak gently billowing in the mountain breeze as he overlooked the peaks on the horizon. Henry approached him slowly and solemnly, standing at his side and staring off in the same direction. “Agape I… I was hoping you would have come and talked to me this morning.”

“You were still asleep when I awoke,” Agape replied after a moment’s silence. “I did not wish to wake you.”

“Instead you worried me half sick,” Henry pointed out, turning his eyes to him.

“That was not my intention.” As he stared out over the distant heights, Henry searched his expression for how he was feeling. “I needed some time to… think.”

“About?” Henry asked, sitting on the grass and motioning for him to sit as well. Agape looked down at him, and hesitated for a moment before sitting beside him.

“I required time to think about what I should do,” he concluded, looking down as he brushed his fingers through the grass around him. He turned, his eyes settling on a patch of wildflowers further down the slope. “I… wish to pay my respects.” Henry tensed.

“That’s… that’s a wonderful idea Agape but, well-” He paused, unsure of how to word it and worried he might take it the wrong way. “Well… Victor- he… See, that’s- that’s where Victor is off to at the moment. And he specifically requested to be-” He cut himself off as Agape suddenly stood, and began walking over to the patch of wildflowers. “Agape?” The tall figure bent down, and began plucking a few of the flowers. Curious, Henry stood and walked over to him. As he walked over, Agape straightened himself upright, and held out a small handful of the flowers for Henry to see.

“As I recall, flowers are a customary gift for the dead, correct?” he asked. Henry was about to reply, when he caught sight of the flowers that Agape held. They were small, pale blue, and grew in clusters on long, vibrant green stems. “Myosotis alpestris,” he recited, recalling the scientific name from one of his and Victor’s many excursions to this spot. “Commonly known as-”

“Forget-me-nots,” Henry breathed, looking up at him. Agape nodded.

“Indeed. They seem… most appropriate.” Suddenly Henry was conflicted. On one hand, he knew Victor needed time to grieve alone. After all, it had been two years, and all that time, he never really had a moment to spend truly grieving. But on the other hand… there was Agape. Clearly seeking something, likely closure or forgiveness, and who was he to deny him that?  “If I wish to arrive there in a timely fashion I should leave presently,” Agape continued, breaking him from his thoughts.

“I’m coming with you,” Henry blurted out before he could consider trying to change his son’s mind. Agape gave him an odd, yet comforted look.

“I would much appreciate your accompaniment, Henry, but if that is the case then we truly must leave right away unless you intend for me to carry you.” Henry shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary,” he answered. “Though I may take you up on that offer on the way back.” Agape nodded.

“I understand. In which case, let us be on our way.”

---

By the time Victor arrived at his family’s cemetery, it was well into the night and the full moon coated the land in an eerie pale gleam. Throughout his journey he had felt strangely numb, as though the reality of it all still hadn’t set in yet - which was especially strange, considering it had been two years now. Still, as he stepped beyond the gate, it seemed as though the weight of every body that lay beneath was piled on top of him and for a moment he struggled to breathe. Memories flooded back of his time in Ingolstadt, digging through graves in the middle of the night, sorting through corpses, picking and choosing which parts he would take and which he would leave behind. Although he knew he had nothing to fear, a chill ran down his spine as he felt like a hundred spirits had gathered around him to judge him for his actions. He shook the thought away, gripping at the collar of his coat and pulling it to cover his face as he walked onward. Searching through the names he once played amongst as a child, he finally came across the headstone he was looking for, and upon seeing it he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Resting serenely beneath a willow was a small granite stone that read ‘William Frankenstein ~ Tragically murdered on May 7th aged 8 years.’ It felt like a nightmare. It felt like it shouldn’t be real. Even after all this time, he couldn’t picture it. The last time he had seen his brother, he was no more than an infant, and he couldn’t fathom what the body six feet beneath where he stood might have looked like. Though his throat was suddenly dry, he shuddered and swallowed hard as he reached out and placed a hand on the cold stone.

“I-” His voice cracked as he began to speak. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say to you. I… I don’t have the words.” He hesitated, clenching his eyes shut. “How, William- how have I continued on knowing that your innocent blood is on my hands? I’m... I never should have-” He sucked in a shaky breath, then suddenly recoiled as a horrible vision swam in his mind. He could see it clearly: his creation’s horrible hand upon the throat of a child, yellow eyes burning with fury as he squeezed the life out of his infant brother. A squeak of disgust escaped his throat at the thought, and he trembled. “I never should have done it. I never should have created it. I- If I hadn’t you would still be alive and- and-” His trembling worsened and he broke into a cold sweat. “Good god William, what the hell am I doing? That thing, that demon, he slaughtered you with his bare hand, and here I am playing the father figure. You, my own brother, perished from his malice and I have been treating him with dignity he most certainly doesn’t deserve!” he exclaimed, his voice hoarse. “How blinded by my own fear of what he might do have I been? How insulting it must be to see me treat your murderer with such care.” He nearly fell as his trembling worsened, and he caught his fall upon the edge of the headstone with a gasp. Slowly, he recovered and stood. “How-” he was cut off by the sound of footsteps, and for a moment fear gripped him until he turned. Walking into the cemetery were two familiar shapes, and though in other circumstances he might have been glad to see them, in this particular moment he felt his blood boil with rage. “You’ve got an awful lot of nerve to follow me here,” he seethed as they approached, his eyes narrowed as he glared at them. Henry sighed, glancing away as he stopped just a few feet from where Victor stood.

“I know- I’m sorry but-”

“No, Henry,’” Victor snapped, clenching his fists. “You. Promised.”

“Yes, I did, and I shouldn’t have. This isn’t about me and it isn’t about you either. He-” Agape slowly walked forward, his expression seemingly blank as his yellow eyes stared down at the headstone. Victor felt rage coursing through him at the sight, his mind still reeling from the dreadful vision he had witnessed only moments ago.

“Get the hell out of my sight,” Victor snarled at the creature, his hand shaking as he forcefully pointed toward the exit. Agape didn’t respond, instead simply taking another silent step. Henry wanted to speak up, but kept his mouth shut, knowing nothing he would say could possibly help. “How dare you come here! After what you did to him you-” He cut himself off as the creature took another step. “Are you listening to me? Get. Out!” he cried, pointing once again toward the exit. Another step. “I swear if you take one more step I will not be responsible for my actions,” he hissed. Another step, suddenly more unsteady this time. Victor felt fury swell within him and he suddenly lunged toward his creation. Henry grabbed him before he could lay so much as a finger on Agape, and Victor in turn was about to push him away to make another attempt at striking the creature, when his eyes caught sight of pale blue clutched between his creation’s boney hands. He hesitated suddenly, his vision focusing to realize that Agape held a small bouquet of various wildflowers he had plucked along the journey to the cemetery, though most numerous in the assortment was forget-me-nots. His eyes widened and he felt some of his rage dissipate as Agape took another faltering step. Henry, seeing that Agape was struggling, instinctively moved to help him, but Victor raised an arm and stopped him. “Agape?” Victor managed to hoarsely call out. The creature did not answer, and simply took another step, now standing directly over the grave. All seemed unnaturally silent, no rustling of branches in the breeze or calls of nocturnal creatures, just silence. Victor felt his heart sink as he beheld his creation suddenly tense hard. “...Agape-”

There was a war suddenly raging within the creature’s heart. Such was his anguish at the thought of his crimes that he felt as though every stitch was tearing out of its seam. His memory flooded with dreaded images he had tried so hard to suppress, and it overwhelmed him. As he tried to keep his composure, his grasp on the flowers tightened. Terror gripped him as the soft crumpling of the stems sounded more like sickening cracks in his ears and the damp feeling of now crushed stalks felt more like blood covering his hands. Though they were only wilted flowers, in the vision of his troubled mind, he held the broken neck of a young boy, and in horror he released his grip. He stared down at his hands, shaking violently, before suddenly collapsing to his knees. An indescribably banshee-like scream of pure agony escaped him as he threaded his fingers through his long black hair and gripped the locks tightly as though he were ready to rip them from his own skull. Both Victor and Henry flinched at the dreadful noise, Henry turning away and Victor struggling to hold back a sob of his own. Tears gushed from Agape’s eyes, falling heavy into the grass below, and he struggled to breathe between the cries of despair that escaped him.

As Victor took in a shaky breath, he felt himself tremble as his thoughts flooded with everything he had just said. After all this time, he had never really considered how Agape might have been reflecting on his own actions, or how he too might have been hiding just how much emotional pain he was in regarding that fateful event. And, if this was still the cold hearted murderer he had considered his creation might be, then why would he be in such clearly torturous distress over the death over the one he himself had killed? Worse yet, he knew better - he had seen just how far Agape had come in coping with his emotions and relating to others. He had seen the amount of care and sympathy this miraculous creature showed toward Henry and himself, how selfless he had always been. After all, even though Victor wished that perhaps he had stayed dead, it was out of a deep familial love that Agape had used the very elixir and device that was meant to create an everlasting companion for himself to instead restore his creator - his father - to life. And, in a very real sense, Agape was still a child. For a child to spend two years silently coping with a trauma so intense, though it may have been a trauma the child himself caused, was a burden that Victor could barely comprehend. All at once, whatever malice he still held for his creation within him melted away, and, making the first move, he walked toward his son and shakily placed a hand on his shoulder.

Agape had finally begun to quiet himself while Victor had been hesitating to make any movement, but as soon as he felt the hand of his father placed gently upon him, he felt a sudden swell of heartbreaking pain and he lurched with a sob. In his mind, he deserved no sympathy, and feeling that this man who had just moments prior hurled threats at him was moved so deeply by his grief that he might entirely change his own damaged perspective, shattered his already guilt ridden soul. Victor himself could no longer hold back his emotions, breaking into tears of his own. He flinched slightly as he suddenly felt a hand placed on his shoulder, and exhaled a shaky breath as he recognized the gentle touch as his husband’s. Henry lingered there behind him for a moment, but slowly moved to his son’s other side, kneeling beside him and resting a hand gently upon his back. Though he opened his mouth to speak, he was shocked into silence as Victor spoke instead.

“I am so-” He hesitated, tensing and shuddering before inhaling sharply and continuing. “So sorry.” The words hurt to say, there was no denying that. The moment they left his lips it felt like a dagger cutting into his chest and a fire burning in his throat. Agape’s still tear-filled eyes widened as he heard them, but he stayed silent, not daring to speak in fear of even the slightest chance that his words may only serve to condemn himself more. Once he regained his composure, Victor went on. “I may be cursed with the knowledge of what happened, with knowing that what I did played a part in sealing his fate, but you…” He swallowed hard, and knelt down beside him, reaching out and turning Agape’s face toward him though his son’s yellow eyes averted from his gaze. “You who have changed and grown, who I have watched make such strides of progress toward returning to the kind and gentle soul you once possessed-” Agape winced at his words, strands of his long black hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes. Victor gently pushed the locks away, tucking them behind his ear. “To be forever stained with vivid memories of what you once did, and to hide the pain it must have caused you as you came to realize that action was such a grievous atrocity for the sake of keeping peace - I can only imagine what a living hell it must have been for all that time.” Picking up one of the flowers, though damaged, he held it up and inspected the pale blue of its tiny petals. “I thought maybe you had simply… forgotten. That maybe to you it had been such an inconsequential action, that maybe all it was, was a means to an end.” He placed the flower down in front of the headstone, and gazed upon the engraving. “It doesn’t make logical sense, though, to think that you might have forgotten, given your… impeccable memory. So maybe that was a lie I told myself - to make blaming you and resenting you justifiable.” He glanced over at Henry, who was staring at him from Agape’s other side with a kind, compassionate smile despite the tears still rolling down his freckled cheeks, and in an instant his guilt and regret melted away into a gentle warmth that seeped through him and turned his pained expression into a similarly soft smile. Agape’s immense frame trembled with a long, labored exhale.

“I am undeserving of your sympathy, Victor. The crime I committed was unforgivable.”

“He never said that your crime was forgiven,” Henry pointed out gently. Agape gave him a pained glance. “Killing a child for the sake of gaining compassion by force is unforgivable, it’s true. But no matter how unforgivable an action may be, no man is born or created innately knowing what is forgivable and what is not. It’s what he chooses to do with the knowledge of his actions that determines whether he himself is worthy of forgiveness or not.” There was a long pause as Agape considered what Henry said.

“Given all I have done and everything I am, would I be considered worthy? Was his murder not so damning that I should be forever condemned? Is there any stride I could make that could in some way restore my dignity of one worth the forgiveness of those he so grievously harmed?” He struggled to steady his voice between each still labored breath, each pulse within him carrying a dull ache of still ever-growing guilt and shame.

“Well,” Victor began, reaching out to him and wiping the tears from his eyes. “All things considered, I would say-” He cut himself off as he perceived in his peripheral vision a gleaming light that seemed to be quickly approaching. He looked to Henry, who seemed to be staring out at the glow with squinted eyes. “Henry,” he whispered somewhat harshly. Henry turned his gaze back down to him. “What is it?”

“Someone is coming,” Henry whispered back. Agape flinched at his words and made a quiet noise almost like a yelp, suddenly clutching at the edges of his cloak and pulling it tighter around himself. Both Victor and Henry hushed him softly, though they looked to each other with concern.

“What do we do?” Footsteps could be heard approaching through the grass beyond - two steps and a gentle tap with each stride. Henry lifted his eyes back up toward the approaching figure.

“...I’ll handle it,” he muttered. “Besides, we can’t risk… you know,” he added, gesturing toward Agape. Victor nodded silently, dropping his eyes to the ground and placing a hand back up onto Agape’s shoulder and squeezing tightly - half to reassure him, and half to give himself something to hold on to as he tried not to imagine the worst. Gently pulling the hood of Agape’s cloak over his head, Henry stood, turning toward the figure and trying to determine who it might be. The voice that called out from beyond sent a sudden chill through Victor’s veins and a new fear gripped at his heart. He wasn’t ready for this. Not here. Not now.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

[nonbinaryeye]

My dear Jonathan...

Written for @jonahmagnusweek

Day 1 - Letters

It has been years since Jonathan Fanshawe cut all the contact with Jonah Magnus.

Read on AO3

...

Jonathan Fanshawe has never given much thought to his future. There hasn’t been any reason to dwell on it too much; anything can happen any time, there is no point to plan anything; no one can predict what will come. Besides he usually has had much more important things to focus on! There have been so many things he wanted to figure out and discover. There has been his hubris telling him he will be able to. Of course he hasn’t had time to concern himself with his future.

That being said though he never imagined he would end up as a local doctor in small village in the middle of Switzerland. But well… anything did happen indeed.

It has been years since he cut any contact with Jonah Magnus. It has also been years since he left England and if he said he is not missing London he would be lying. But it isn’t that bad. His life now is much more… peaceful. Also more frugal. But that is fine. He can be actually helping people instead of chasing his own ambition. He can do some good for a change.

“Good evening, doctor!” as soon as he enters through the doors his housekeeper Frieda welcomes him. She is a widow and even though she’s somewhere in her sixties she is always full of energy no matter if she is cleaning the house or informing him about newest gossips in all the nearby villages.

“Evening, Frieda.” He gives her a tired smile and hangs his coat on a hanger expecting flow of questions. She could never stay quiet for too long; no matter what is the topic she has something to say. In the past these kinds of people used to annoy Jonathan but now no matter how exhausting it can be he prefers it over the alternative of being trapped in silence only with his own thoughts.

“How was your day? The autumn is almost here. There is always much more sick people when the summer ends. We are lucky to have you. You were visiting that Butcher’s kid today right? How is he doing?”

“Hm? Yes, yes… The fever is almost gone. Few more days and Wilhelm will be back on his feet.”

Fanshawe has been living here for almost three years now. He had to deal at first with lots of hostile looks but they quickly changed to more accepting ones as soon as people learnt he is a doctor. Then they changed to fully welcoming when they realized he is a real and actually good doctor who can do more than just offer to people some herb tea. And so no one bothered to ask him too many questions what exactly made him leave all the comforts of London and move in remote village in foreign country.

“You look tired. Go get some rest I will start making dinner. I’ve prepared the fireplace for you it was quite chilly in your room. The autumn really is here isn’t it? As I said more people will start getting sick soon. It is always like that when autumn arrives…”

“Call me when it’s ready.” He might maybe spend the evening by reading next to lit fire place. Maybe he will even pour himself a glass of… well he isn’t sure what kind of alcohol it was exactly, he got it as a gift from one of his patient as a thank you. But it doesn’t taste the worst and he could not exactly be picky here.

“Oh also I would almost forget, a letter for you arrived today. Isn’t it strange, doctor? I don’t remember that you would ever get any.” It is indeed… unusual. There is a seed of worry starting to grow inside him. He doesn’t receive letters very often. He is doctor after all so when someone needs him it is usually way too urgent to wait for post to deliver message since they usually come by only once every two weeks. Still it doesn’t have to mean… “Do you have any idea who might write you? It looks rather fancy it is even in an envelope!”

Jonathan feels a horrible feeling of dread washing over him. “Yes… I mean no. I have no idea. Where is the letter, Frieda?”

“I left it on your table-…”

“Thank you. That is all I… Good night,”

“There will still be a dinner, doctor!” Fanshawe barely registers her words. He rushes into his room. Since Frieda keeps whole house very neat it takes him only few second it find a single letter lying on his writing table. He doesn’t know how long he only stares at it before he finally dares to pick it up.

The space for sender’s address is empty but Jonathan doesn’t need it to know who exactly has sent it to him. Even without the extravagant envelope; even without the seal with the owl imaginary; even if he couldn’t recognize the handwriting he still knows painfully well; there is only one person who could.

It has been years since he cut any contact with Jonah Magnus.

Unfortunately Jonah Magnus still hasn’t decided to cut a contact with him.

When he return from his… “trip” to Germany he was welcomed at his house in London by series of letters from Jonah questioning his decision. And they haven’t stopped coming. After a consideration Jonathan decided to move away, afraid Jonah might eventually try to reach out to him personally. ‘It is just because he doesn’t want to have anything to do with him,’ he was telling himself at first. ‘He has no reason to be afraid. What could Jonah do to him after all?’

The answer on his question was waiting at him every night in his nightmares which were full of eyes. Sometimes they are just floating in nothingness. Sometimes they are staring at him from Albrecht’s dead body. And sometimes he sees himself and he is the one covered in eyes.

After thinking about some of their past conversations and after looking at some of their past correspondence he started to notice lots of double meanings he chose to overlook at the time but which he can ignore no longer. Also what was the name of Jonah’s ‘dear friend’ who so mysteriously disappeared few years ago? Barnabas? There is no doubt something is very wrong with Jonah Magnus. And one should rather get out of his way before they find themselves standing in the middle of it.

He thought simply moving to a different city will solve his issue. He found out he has thought wrong since just as he is settled another letter from Jonah Magnus arrives. Jonathan was more annoyed than worried. At this point he assumed Jonah obtained the address through some acquaintances; he seemed to have some everywhere. And so Fanshawe thought that maybe staying abroad for year or two might solve his problem. He returned to Kingdom of Württemberg but then he very quickly moved to Baden. Then to Nassau, several parts of Saxony, Luxembourg, Hanover and many others German countries.

But the letters never stopped coming. Sometimes he received letters only weeks apart. Sometimes it took months. Now it has been the longest time since the last one. He really hoped that he managed to disappear from his sight. Or that at least Jonah got finally tired and decided to stop bothering him.

As many times before he is wrong. The letter in his hand is proof of that.

He should just throw it out. Destroy it. But he needs to know – it would later bother him too much – he needs to see for himself if there will be some threats. Requests. Curses.

He opens the letter.

 My dear Jonathan,

It has been a while since my last letter and I would like to apologize that I haven’t find a time to write to  you any sooner but I have been very busy with my Institute lately. I have finally found a perfect place where could I relocate my institute I think that I mentioned my intentions to do so in the past somewhere in our correspondence. I must admit that I might have helped it a bit by…

 Jonathan tears the paper in half.

There are no mean spirited words no laughs at him for thinking he might be safe. No. There is just politeness the words written as if they were intended for an old friend. Just mundane information about his everyday life Jonathan couldn’t be less interested in. He doesn’t want to know any of this. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with Jonah Magnus and his damned institute.

He tears the letter again. And again. And then once more. Only as he is throwing the scraps of paper in the fireplace he notices how much are his hands shaking. His heart is beating fast and the feeling of dread is swallowing him whole. Defeated, he sits down on a chair by the fire.

He feels so silly now. How could he think he can ever escape him? How could he think he is able to get rid of him?

The content of the letters really isn’t the point. It doesn’t matter whether Jonathan reads them or not because they already fulfill their purpose by just successfully reaching their destination. All Jonah wants is to remind Fanshawe from time to time that no matter where he moved no matter where he tried to hide he still knows his exact position. He isn’t about to hurt him. But he wants Jonathan to know that he could if he wanted. He is still at his mercy.

Jonathan should be probably angry. Enraged. But he cannot. He can no longer even bring himself to feel spite for what happened to Albrecht and for what probably happened to so many other people surrounding Jonah Magnus; for all the evil Jonathan unknowingly helped him to spread. He is only exhausted. He only wishes for it to finally end…

But it never will, will it? He should finally accept that there will always be a next letter. But living the rest of his life in state of constant paranoia seemed like fair prize to pay for his sins.

[shera-dnd]

New chapter is up (on time this time) and things start getting a little gay

alternative title for this chapter was I Name Thee Simp, but I feel like that applies better to the chapter I’m currently writing

as usual, AO3 link above and read more link bello. Hope y’all enjoy the read.

There was something different to Weiss. Even fully armored as she was, it was easy to tell that something had changed in the way she held herself. The way she shadowed Ilia through the festival grounds. For the past couple of days it was if the cloud of resignation that hung over Weiss’s mood had slowly dissipated and was promptly replaced by… something else.

Perhaps her little chats with Belladonna had been improving her mood. The two of them seemed to be getting along far more amicably since Weiss’s little promise. Ilia on the other hand made no effort to hide how bitter she was that her former companion now found such easy company with a human. That she would choose a human over Ilia.

No. It didn’t matter what had happened to the Schnee and it didn’t matter who Belladonna chose to associate with. She was here to enjoy herself, and as long as those fools stuck to their part of the deal, she would not waste precious thought on them.

So she shook those thoughts away and moved on with her day. She would simply focus on enjoying her time at the festival and not worry herself with this. There were so many people to meet, food to eat, stories to listen to, and she simply had no time to waste on those things.

Not when she could just enjoy her day.

“Hey!” An angry voice called and Ilia did her best to ignore it, “stop right there!”

Ilia sighed and turned to face the shouting man. It was some stuck up little lordling, old enough to understand he had power, but not enough to use it with any sense. Two men in full knight’s regalia flanked him on each side, all three of them wearing heraldry of House Marigold.

“Lord Marigold, it is an honor to make your acquaintance,” Ilia greeted with false joy.

“I’m sure it is,” he replied and Ilia weighed the pros and cons of making this man disappear, “you responsible for this man’s actions?”

He gestured rudely towards Weiss, who didn’t even give the courtesy to look back at him. Good.

“They are my bodyguard,” she informed him, “though what they do with their free time is none of my business.”

“Well it’s certainly my business,” he countered, “your bodyguard is a cheat and a liar!”

Ilia glanced at Weiss to see how she would react to have her honor questioned like that. The woman seemed utterly unamused, as if the Marigold boy was just a particularly loud bug.

“And why is it you make these accusations?” She asked, feigning ignorance.

“Have you not watched the tournament?” He asked, “no faceless mercenary could face the best House Marigold has to offer and emerge victorious were they not a lying cheat!”

“If those bumbling oafs are the best your house has to offer, perhaps you would have had better luck hiring lying cheats,” she offered, with the same polite smile she had kept throughout this conversation.

To that the knights that flanked him stirred. Both stepped forward standing annoyingly close to Weiss and Ilia. She couldn’t help but be aware of how much iron was being carried around her.

“What did you just call us?” The knight asked and Ilia immediately recognized him. His loud and obnoxious voice was unmistakable.

“Bumbling oaf,” she repeated, “or do you have a better term for someone who got so thoroughly humiliated, they chose to lie to their lord over admitting defeat?”

“Listen here,” the Marigold boy interjected, “I will not have my men’s honesty questioned by some southern whor--”

Weiss’s blade was at his neck before the last sound could escape his mouth. Both of his men looked baffled, fully aware that had Ilia wished so, their lord would have died before they could draw their weapons. It was intensely satisfying, even if it was probably the last thing Ilia would get to see before being executed.

“What is the meaning of this?” A familiar voice called.

From behind his two knights approached Belladonna, accompanied by Lady Polendina. The two men seemed relieved to see their fellow knights. They were certainly in for a terrible surprise.

“Ah, it is good to see you here, Lady Polendina,” the Marigold boy greeted, though he hesitated to move from his position, “now please arrest this woman. She has sicced her bodyguard on me like a hound.”

Penny seemed to ignore his words as she recognized the people threatening to murder him.

“Salutations, Lady Ilia,” she greeted, as brightly as ever, “how have you been enjoying the festival?”

“It’s been wonderful, Lady Polendina” Ilia greeted, leaving the men utterly confused, “though some of the attendants can be a bit overbearing at times.”

“I see our companion hasn’t taken kindly to their behavior,” Belladonna commented, nodding towards Weiss’s unmoving blade.

“What!?” The Marigold’s voice cracked as he turned ever so slightly to look at who he assumed would be his backup, “they have drawn on a Lord of Atlas, they should be arrested, and executed.”

“Oh? Has your father passed away?” Penny asked, with seemingly genuine worry, “my condolences.”

“What? No,” he replied, confused, “my father is well.”

“Oh, then they haven’t drawn on a Lord of Atlas,” she said, matter of factly,  “though they’d need good reason to be threatening one of its citizens.”

“My bodyguard may have gotten a little overzealous,” Ilia explained, “but they only intended to defend my honor.”

“A little overzealous!?” the Marigold exclaimed.

“You did call me a ‘southern whore’ in front of them,” she replied. Weiss’s grip on the sword tightened as the insult was repeated.

“Lord Henry Marigold!” Lady Polendina began, “this festival is about celebrating peace with the nations of Remnant! You will not embarrass our kingdom by acting like this!”

“She was the one defending the honorless cheat who humiliated my men!”

“I fought them myself in that tournament, and I can assure you they fought with the honor and skill befit of a knight,” Belladonna countered.

“Me and your good father will be having a conversation about this later,” Penny threatened, “now be gone.”

With that all three of the men ran back from whence they came, leaving behind the three knights, and a very stunned Ilia.

Penny giggled as she watched them run, “my apologies. I believe Lady Schnee might have rubbed off on me more than I expected.”

“No need to apologize,” Ilia assured her, “I’m grateful you showed up when you did.”

“What a lovely coincidence that me and Lady Blake were passing by,” Penny beamed as bright as the sun, “we were on our way to get ourselves some food, in fact. Would you two like to join us?”

“Of course they would,” Belladonna answered, “trust me on this. You do not know good food until you’ve had fish prepared by a mistrali chef.”

Ilia had no doubts as to why Belladonna was so fond of that fish dish, but she couldn’t exactly say that out loud, instead what she did say was, “very well. At least let me pay for your meals to repay you for this. I insist.”

It took her a while, but they eventually accepted her generosity. She hadn’t stolen all this money not to spend it, and it genuinely was the least she could do.

As they began making their way through the crowd, Weiss tapped on Ilia’s shoulder - making sure to only touch the dress so as to not accidentally burn her - to ask her to stay a little further behind so they could talk.

“Are you well?” She whispered.

“I certainly almost wasn’t,” she hissed, “what was that about?”

Weiss seemed to think for a moment, as if even she wasn’t sure what her burst of violence was about.

“I would be no knight, were I to let my lady’s name be insulted like that,” was her eventual answer.

It was...sweet. Impossibly stupid, and barely a good excuse for putting them at risk like that, but it was sweet. It had been far too long since anyone stood up for Ilia, even if this time it was out of some misguided sense of duty.

As detestable as she found the idea, Ilia couldn’t help but feel like she owed the Schnee some kindness after all that.

“You’re a fool,” she declared, sure that Weiss was ready to leave it at that, but Ilia wasn’t quite done, “but I’m grateful.”

She took off the shawl she wore over her dress and handed it over to her companion, her magic weaving itself into it like an extra layer of unseen cloth.

“Take it,” she commanded and her knight did as ordered, “I put a glamour on it. As long as you hold it your face, and voice, will be that of an ordinary woman, and no human will know your true nature.”

Weiss gently draped it over her shoulders, her hands slowly reached for her helmet, hesitated for a moment. Ilia knew she was asking for a lot of trust from the Schnee, but her words were true, and her gift genuine, if bedrudging.

Eventually Weiss chose to trust her and carefully took off her helmet. To everyone else she was just another plain face in the crowd, a nondescript woman who no one would look twice at. But Ilia could see through her own handiwork with ease.

The woman may not have looked any different, but her expression held far more emotion than Ilia had ever seen it hold before. Not even her first bout of rage matched the sheer gratefulness in those eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered back, before returning to march behind their companions.

Ilia blinked a few times as she stared after her, not fully understanding what had just happened.

Gods, that Schnee was one strange woman.